The Pureblood Princess
by TheEndless7
Summary: <html><head></head>Daphne Greengrass always had a plan. She liked being organized. But the Dark Lord's return at the end of her fifth year derailed everything, and now she must decide who will best help her find the life she always wanted.</html>
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Onichun and Commiles2003 for the beta work.

The Pure-Blood Princess

Chapter 1

Fifth year was boring. There really wasn't any way around it. I suppose anything would be anti-climatic after the Triwizard Tournament, but it certainly hadn't been fun. Hell, the highlight of it had to have either been the quidditch brawl between the Weasleys and Malfoy or the Weasleys leaving. And I don't give props to Gryffindors often. Especially not those pricks. Usually Potter does something stupid that screws the rest of the school and somehow rewards him. I think he tried this year, but it doesn't seem like anything particularly came of it.

It was almost annoying they'd left. I hadn't managed to get them back for that cruel prank they'd pulled on my sister simply because she had a green tie. She'd cried in her room for nearly a week. One day, I'd get them back. But for now, they got away clean.

The OWLs had been a bit easier than I'd expected. I floundered a bit in defense. But that has to be expected, right? I mean how could anyone in my year, or even the school, have had any type of success? Stupid incompetent teachers. We spent a year on a text that a first year could have read in a month! And past that it was about as outdated as an arranged marriage! Of course, an arranged marriage was probably the only way Umbridge could get laid, so perhaps she just liked antiquated old methods. It doesn't matter, though. The defense grades will be so horrid that there's no possible way she can actually come back for another year. Hopefully her replacement won't be as bad.

Actually, better idea. Hopefully my Defense Against the Dark Arts grade is so bad I don't have to take the class again. Honestly, that's the one thing Umbridge had right. It wasn't like people were just walking down Diagon Alley zapping each other with spells. And I frankly doubt that years of faulty defense training was a major deterrent.

I think I did well enough in my other subjects though. I screwed up some of my runes. Spent too much time on Latin and not enough time on Greek. My potion came out the wrong color, too, but you'll have that from time to time. And I don't particularly care about brewing. Mom's always giving me shit about that. She can't understand why I can be good at baking, and bad at brewing. Well, baking results in yummy food, brewing results in a professor leering at me.

What else is there? Oh, Muggle Studies. That was pretty straight forward. Kind of fun, actually, but I'd never admit that. They have some interesting things. Both my parents are rather progressive. Or so they say. I think they're just fascinated by television. Dad works with Muggles, you see. Our house has to appear like theirs. It has some perks.

It drew some flak when I invited most of my housemates, and everyone in my year, over for a summer party after second year. But after a quick demonstration on how a lot of the stuff worked and they appeared to be charmed. At the very least it was like getting a shiny new toy for a couple of hours. Some of them asked about it later, most didn't. But that's my penance for having two eccentric former Ravenclaw parents.

Astronomy? Boring. I care about as much as my grade in that one as I do the fact that a teacher was attacked by Ministry thugs during the exam.

Transfiguration? Perfect. Easy. Unlike brewing it apparently runs in the family. Mom always said the class was easy to the point of being nearly boring. I have to agree with her. Charms, on the other hand, are useless. They don't work. I don't care what the stupid goblin says. They don't work. It's pure placebo. I'm never taking that stupid class again.

But I was talking about how the fifth year was boring. And it was. What else happened of note? Let me see. There was Potter's blundering romance with Cho Chang. That was fun to watch. Anyone with half a brain could see the inevitable implosion there. She just wanted him because he filled the Diggory void. Chang was strange, though. I often wondered why she was a Ravenclaw. She wasn't that smart. And she wasn't particularly pretty. And she cried way too much. Almost constantly. Suck it up, girl, shit happens. It's been a year since Diggory died, get over it! I really don't understand what boys see in her. They all must just have some strange fascination with Asian girls.

Still, watching Potter attempt to woo her was comical. From what I could tell, Chhang was practically throwing herself at him. Had he been anything near competent he'd have bedded her shortly after Christmas. But Harry Potter is far from competent. He's almost laughably uncomfortable around girls. I'm not sure if I've ever seen him form a coherent, complete sentence to a girl that wasn't Hermione. Really, all I know is that if I were the Gryffindor Patil, well, I'd have cursed him into next week at the Yule Ball. Not that my date was any better. But at least her date has soft pink squishy stuff inside his skull. Well, maybe I'm giving him too much credit.

Of course, it was fantastic that he stupidly got himself banned from quidditch. I still think we'd stomp them if we actually fielded the best possible team. But maybe the quality of broom does trump the quality of player. I don't know. I'm not a sports fan. I've actually never flown on a broom, and I have next to no interest in doing so.

What else happened? Well there was that whole bit over Christmas where one of my girlfriends asked about going all the way with her boyfriend. It got a bit annoying, really. See she started to ask, like she really wanted an opinion. But she had no interest in an opinion. She was just bragging to us that she was going to have sex. As I said, bit annoying.

Somewhere worked in there was the whole Harry Potter interview in the Quibbler. That was rather amusing. Although, I couldn't help but wonder if Potter knew just how petty it made him seem. Even I had to admit, his ability to ignore the Skeeter articles was impressive. But to respond with a Skeeter article against people he was knowingly at odds with. Well, it seemed that the Boy-Who-Lived was no longer taking the high road.

And then there was that whole Inquisition. Or whatever the hell they called themselves. That was strange. Handy, but strange. I will be the first to admit it is rather fun to be able to do whatever you want, despite not actually joining. But how dumb does a teacher have to be to assume that's going to accomplish anything. I'd almost feel bad for Potter if he wasn't such a prick. I'll at least empathize that it must be fairly annoying to have something out to get you every hear. I just wish something would actually succeed.

Still, fifth year was over. I was glad for it. Two to go. Maybe one if my Dad would let me drop out and do something more fun. Muggles go to school forever. And some of them just start teaching what they went to school for. That would be fun. Their wars are more interesting, too. Many of my housemates would love the class if they took the time to take it. We spent a week on what the Muggles refer to as The Great War. They're incredible at coming up with ways for killing themselves. Ruthless, too.

They come up with fantastic excuses for wars too. I suppose they have more things to fight for than the Wizarding World does. But there's certainly a self-righteous vibe of knowing what's right going through their stuff. Fighting over land and political theory, though, doesn't seem that much different than fighting over blood status.

And no matter what anyone tells you, I was not crying at any point when I read _All Quiet on the Western Front_ or _The Things They Carried_. That's a heinous lie spread by my obnoxious friend. I mean, it's not like it's heartbreaking when O'Brien lets you into his fictional truth about men and wars, and admits that certain stories were truly his. I, uh. Yea, the inquisition. That's what I was thinking about. They'd screwed something up last night, but I hadn't bothered to figure out what it was yet.

But I figured I probably should. You learned quickly in my house that it was always better to know what was going on. It made it easier to make plans and figure out ways around things. And that was essential.

I didn't bother getting dressed before walking up the stairs that led to the common room. Almost the entire house was gathered in the common room. I noticed an open spot on the couch and plopped myself down in it with a lazy, early-morning yawn. The common room was a bit creepy. Something about it always just felt strange. But you grew accustomed to the skulls by your second year. That, or you had a breakdown thinking they were watching you. I'm serious. I've seen it. Although it may have just been the pressures of the NEWTs.

"What's up?" I asked, looking at the relatively somber faces. I got a few angry glances, but Draco Malfoy just held up a piece of paper.

"He's back," he sounded giddy. I yawned again. Draco wasn't a bad looking boy, but he rubbed me the wrong way. He had it all though. Charm, money, manners, and the looks. He'd probably be quite a bit better off if he didn't focus so much on trying to irritate Potter. The silly boy was too young to realize he could probably just charm the pants off of some of Potter's closer friends and irritate his rival through much more subtle means. For example, the youngest Weasley would be a fantastic target.

"Who's back?" I asked with another yawn. I ran a hand through my slightly greasy morning hair and winced a little at the thought of not showering or changing. But on the positive side, you had smell to worse than Crabbe and Goyle before anyone would notice, so I was good for a while. I hated the greasy hair feeling though

"The Dark Lord," Draco said solemnly. Usually he just said that the Dark Lord would return. Frankly, I didn't find that to be such a great thing. I mean I'm young, I'll be sixteen in August, but even I know full scale societal war doesn't often lead to the best of times for most people.

"For real?" I said, trying to sound happy. My parents hadn't particularly been involved in the first war. They'd been rather focused on their careers. A little too focused, perhaps, and it was quite the surprise when they realized they'd have another person to provide for less than a year after the wedding. They'd been busy. Honestly, I wasn't sure which side my parents would be on. They hadn't raised me to be as bigoted as most Pure Bloods were. I'd discovered that rather quickly at Hogwarts. And while my father worked with Muggles, and enjoyed some of their gadgets, he did think he was better than them. Of course, that total bigotry could have been just Malfoy and his little entourage. Ever since second year he'd been allowed to do nearly whatever he liked.

"Of course for real," he stared back at the paper. "They even have pictures." I rolled my eyes and tried to get a look at the paper he was admiring. I probably shouldn't have rolled my eyes like that. I'm sure someone saw my reaction. But it only mattered that Draco didn't. None of his little group would comment if he didn't. And frankly, with the way he was looking at the pictures of the Dark Lord in the paper, I could have been dressed up in the skimpiest harem girl costume in existence and dancing on a pole in front of him and he likely wouldn't notice.

"Let me see," I said after regaining my composure. Draco didn't look quite ready to give up his copy of the paper. I wondered if he'd frame it. Thankfully, one of the older students handed me his copy. I skimmed it. It couldn't be for real. The paper claimed Harry Potter led a small group of students into the ministry to attempt to retrieve something, where they were ambushed by Death Eaters. I couldn't help but wonder why the Ministry was so poorly guarded at night that a bunch of kids could sneak in, and be ambushed by some escaped felons.

Eventually, both the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore showed up and fought in the atrium, which resulted in massive amounts of property damage, which would almost assuredly come out of the taxpayers' vault. Once some ministry officials started to arrive, the Dark Lord fled. There was a list of captured Death Eaters at the end of the article. They had already been shipped off to Azkaban. I couldn't help but wonder why the response had taken so long too. Seemed like ministry guards should have arrived long before Dumbledore and Minister Fudge. Were they really so unprepared after the years of peace? That seemed like a particularly bad start for the unsuspecting good guys.

"I don't mean to be a bitch or anything," I said after a moment of scanning the article. "But it appears quite a few of your parents are heading to jail." My comment drew a few chuckles from some of the students. Including Draco.

"Mother wrote me this morning. The group of Death Eaters never made it to Azkaban. Such a shame the Ministry forgot to report about that," Draco said. I nodded a little bit. Really a poor start for the so called good guys.

"Fancy that," I said dryly, drawing more laughs from my housemates. I stared down at the animated picture of the Dark Lord turning toward the cameraman before fleeing the Ministry. It sent a chill down my spine. I didn't want to be part of a war. I wanted to have my own, happy life doing things I enjoyed. Maybe I wouldn't have to be involved. That would be for the best. Regardless, I handed the paper back to the older boy who'd offered it to me and stood up. I took a moment to fix the strap on the tank-top that served as my pajama shirt and shrugged as nonchalantly as I could.

"Well. Good news is always the best way to start off a day. But I'm going to go shower while you stay gathered around the paper. I'm surprised you're not off taunting Potter, to be honest, Draco." I said, stretching a bit as I stood up. I knew some of the boys were watching me rather intently. I liked it.

"I'm sure he's surrounded by Dumbledore today. Didn't fancy a run in with that. I'll bide my time," Draco said with a nod that indicated it was the best possible plan. I couldn't help but wonder how many of the other Slytherins could see through his words. Maybe we were just all so jaded that we always assumed everyone was lying. No. That's too harsh. It's not like we spend every waking moment of every day trying to one up each other. And it's not that we aren't friends. We are just teenage students, after all. We have just as many petty rivalries as the rest of the school. In the end, we're really just more calculating, or cautious, than the rest of the student body.

"Well best of luck with that. I'll see you all in a bit," I said and ducked back out of the common room toward the girls' dorms.

"Can I join you in the shower, Daphne?" one of the boys called after me. It was embarrassing, but expected. After all, you have to be able to receive suggestive comments if you make them. I could feel the blood rising to my face so I made a point to not turn around when I commented.

"Not a chance," I replied, without even bothering to identify who had asked the question. There was some more laughter as I made the way back down the stairs. I grabbed a uniform, thankful that I'd get a two month reprieve from it soon, and ducked into the showers.

I spent a rather inordinate amount of time just letting the water run over my body. It was relaxing and it helped me think. I'm always the girl with the plan. Usually my friends don't even realize I had the plan. But both my parents insisted that proper planning was the key to success, and I'd taken those lessons to heart at a very young age. Of course, in hindsight, it was ironic considering how I was unplanned. I hadn't asked them about Astoria.

But my plan had not included the return of a Dark Lord. Sure, Draco had talked about it annoyingly often. Especially during the second year, and the start of this year. He'd actually commented, rather proudly, that Potter's version of the events in the Graveyard were the truth. The Dark Lord had murdered Cedric Diggory, and Potter had barely escaped with his life. My housemates were very enthralled with the story.

But still, some of us thought it was fiction. Yes, it served rather well as an explanation for what had happened at the end of the tournament. Something that still to this day no one has bothered to explain to me. And I'm certainly not holding my breath. Yet why would the Dark Lord let Potter leave? There had to be something more to it than Draco knew. It was useless to speculate.

Draco's constant insistence that the Dark Lord would return bordered on psychopathic. I'd always had an 'I'll believe it when I see it' mentality, simply because that made his words easier to tolerate. I'd assumed many of my housemates felt the same, but I'd never actually asked.

Pansy was the exception. She believed everything Draco said, and often brought up many of the same topics when they were studying. Again, it was easier to just nod and agree and assume you'd never have to be faced with the problem. Unfortunately, when you saw the problem on the front page of the paper, you realized that something will have to be done.

I took a moment to find some soap and wash myself slowly. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander for a bit. I knew coming up with a plan would take longer than a shower even without breaks anyway, so I didn't feel bad. When I was done I grabbed a nearby bottle. Judging from the weight of it in my hand, I was lucky that I was going home soon. It always seemed to take too long to get your own personal beauty products at school. I inhaled the vanilla scented shampoo before washing my hair. The washing took longer than it should have. I knew I needed to think about getting some of it lopped off.

But once that was done I had no choice, well other than getting out of the wonderfully warm shower, but to go back to thinking about my plan. Originally it had seemed so easy. My parents were both successful in medicine. They had enough money from my mother's parents to live rather comfortably but had both made quite a bit more. They'd done what they had always wanted to do, and had always wanted me to do the same.

I was going to finish my time at Hogwarts and then try to get into one of those Muggle schools and pursue History or Law. I wanted to be a solicitor. And, like my father, I thought it would be something I could do in both the Magical and Muggle world. It would probably be really easy to make a killing off the Muggles, too. I'd just have to be careful with magic.

I was sure there would be people that would think I was strange for doing that, but it was what I wanted to do. And it really paved the way for a position as a magical judge, or in magical politics. At the very least it was experience others wouldn't have.

But if the Dark Lord was back, I doubted he'd take kindly to a Slytherin prancing off to Muggle school to learn about Muggle things. I couldn't help but idly wonder if they'd look over my transcripts, too. I doubted it. I couldn't help but find it funny to imagine the Dark Lord seeing a bunch of Slytherins getting the highest grades in Muggle Studies. In the end, though, I knew I'd have to hope the war would be over by the time that came. But the first war lasted eleven years. If the Dark Lord was really back, it would probably be a pipe dream for it to be all over in two.

I couldn't come up with anything else that I should do. That was frustrating, but I knew I'd think of something in time. It was always best to not make hasty decisions before having all of the information you may need. That's how plans backfired. The absolute best I could come up with was going home and trying to enjoy my summer holiday. My parents would likely provide the best bit of support they could, and I'd have the better part of two months to come up with a better plan for my future.

After I finished showering I quickly toweled off while looking in the bathroom mirror. I liked to think I was pretty. But I'd have preferred Tracey's dark hair to my own dirty blonde. I'd have also preferred Pansy's icy blue eyes to my own hazel ones. I'm not a particularly big girl, either. I stopped growing and really just filled out through the fourth year. But I liked my body, and, boys seemed quite happy with my features, so I didn't really have anything to complain about in that department. I also think I have just a great little smirk. It's fantastic for getting people to do what I want.

I dressed fairly quickly, not bothering with the tie, before heading back into the dorm to find some shoes and socks to pull on. I was digging through my trunk for them when I heard my dorm mates enter. I sat on my bed and pulled the knee high socks on as Millicent led Tracy up.

"Where's Pansy?" I asked as I threw a pair of shoes on.

"Doing her rounds with Draco," Millicent said. "She said she'd meet us at lunch."

"Right, well. Shall we?" I asked as I stood up.

"Wait," Tracey said. She looked at me for a moment before she asked. "You didn't seem particularly excited about the return of the Dark Lord."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"Of course not," Millicent responded calmly. Tracy gave her a quick look that indicated she didn't quite agree with that statement, but I chose not to comment.

"Well then I don't think it's something we need to talk about," I said carefully.

"I disagree," Tracy said. "Your parents weren't involved in the first war. And they aren't Slytherins." She was right. I gazed around for a moment, looking up at the see-through ceiling of the dormitory. It had been built under the lake and the ceiling was actually the bottom of the lake. It had been charmed so we could see through it, but from the other side it appeared to be a normal lake bottom. It didn't have the best visibility, but on very nice days you could see some fish swimming around through the plants. I rather liked just watching. After a moment, though I formulated my response.

"Weren't Slytherins," I corrected. "It's not like you write your house down on paperwork after your graduate. It's just where you live for seven years." That was actually what my mother told me when I wrote saying I hadn't been sorted into her old house. Tracey crossed her arms across her chest as I said it. Thankfully, Millicent spoke before Tracey.

"Yes, we understand that. But a vast majority of your housemates do have parents that will be in the war and it will become difficult if you do not support them."

"Why wouldn't I support them? They're my friends," I said simply.

"Who will your parents support?" Tracey asked.

"I have no idea. But I can't control their actions, either way," I said. Millicent looked over at Tracey who just sighed.

"You do have a point there. I just thought you'd be happier to hear the news," she said.

"Honestly, Tracey, I don't understand why anyone is happy." The other two girls gasped and tried to speak but I just kept going. "No listen. I mean I get the politics. But people die in wars. Wars destroy whole societies and I don't know about you, but I'd rather have the biggest worry of my post Hogwarts day be what groceries I need to pick up on the way home, rather than if my friends or family will be killed that night. You probably think that's selfish of me."

"I don't," Millicent said. "I think we'd all rather be safe".

"Yes. But this is for the greater good of the society," Tracey said. "I trust you'll at least support your friends, knowing we would gladly do the same for you."

"Of course," I replied with an honest smile. "But can we go to lunch now? I'm famished."

"Me too," Millicent added. Tracey, the skinniest and lightest eater of the three of us just rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she said. Her tone was stern but we've had this joke conversation before. We walked out and back up into the common room. It was nearly deserted by now. A few younger students, including Astoria, were playing a game of Gobstones in the corner. I debated going over and talking to her, but I didn't have anything particularly important to say. So instead I just allowed myself to be led out of the common room by Tracey and Millicent.

We walked slowly out of the dungeon and meandered our way through the hallways until we made it to the Great Hall. It was probably about eleven. A tad early for lunch, but with the term being over the school was typically lenient on designated meal times.

We wandered over toward the Slytherin table. I do have to admit, it was nice having the hall all decked out in green and silver, even if the only reason we won the house competition was because we could unfairly take away Gryffindor points. I caught a quick glimpse of Dumbledore out of the corner of my eye. I'm surprised he even allowed it. The quidditch loss was still a little disappointing though.

I was happily surprised that breakfast options were still available, so I grabbed some toast, a couple of sausages and a few fried eggs before commencing to stuff my face. Millicent grabbed some sort of sandwich and Tracy made herself a salad.

Pansy joined us a few minutes later. She decided to turn my toast into her lunch, but I didn't object.

"How were the rounds?" I asked. I'd have liked to be the female prefect, but unfortunately that wasn't to be.

"Fine. Typical end of the year stuff, mostly. Some seventh year Gryffindors got a bit catty, but Flitwick showed up and settled that," she said. It wasn't surprising, after the Inquisitorial Squad.

"That sucks," I said. "Where's Draco?"

"He went to mail a response to his mother," Pansy replied. "He'll probably join us shortly."

"Cool," I said. I grabbed some more toast to replace the pieces Pansy stole. I ate one slowly, having finished with the rest of my meal. A few minutes later Draco did walk into the Great Hall. He sat next to Pansy and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before he stole the remaining piece of toast she had. She stole the one piece I had left and I grabbed another from the plate nearby.

"Potter looks pretty beat up," Tracey commented as she gazed across at the Gryffindor table. I looked over and saw him sitting at the Gryffindor table next to Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas. He did look rather battered and bruised. But he also looked like someone just killed a puppy in front of him. If I cared about him, I'd almost be sad. But I didn't.

"Where's his usual cohorts?" I asked.

"Both in the hospital. Weasley appears to be okay. Pomfrey thinks he has a head injury, I resisted the urge to comment that he really was just that dumb. Granger she wouldn't comment on. Apparently she's not in the best of shape."

"That's scary," Millicent said. Draco just nodded. If I had to guess, I'd say he was happy about it, but a little struck by mortality. But that's just an assumption. I don't know anything about death so I'm likely not the one who should comment.

"Shame they made it out of the ministry," Tracy said callously from across the table.

"Yep. I'll take our final prefect log to Professor Snape, Pansy. I need to talk to him anyway," Draco said.

"Awesome, thanks Draco," Pansy replied. Her boyfriend finished his last piece of toast.

"Well, ladies," he said as he stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'll see you at the feast."

"Later, Draco," I said as the other girls exchanged their own farewell with him. I saw the little blonde Ravenclaw Potter seemed fond of leave out of the corner of my eye. She was looking at a slip of paper as she left and looked rather confused. Harry stood and followed her out. I couldn't help but think that they would make an interesting, albeit annoying, couple.

I took a moment to finish my last bit of toast. Conversations continued around me, Millicent and Pansy were discussing their OWLs. Tracey commented on occasion as well. They were back to being students. Interesting how the news of the Dark Lord's return could only dominate their conversations for so long. Of course, none of them really wanted to get caught talking of it too freely in public. That could have very negative consequences. After a few minutes I was tired of the conversation.

"I should go pack," I said.

"Why? You have all night after the feast," Tracy asked.

"I never feel like packing after the feast. Usually just want to laze around and feel fat. Besides, the last three years Astoria has come crying that she needed help. I may as well get it done so I don't have to rush in the morning," I explained.

"I'll join you," Millicent said. I nodded to her and we left Pansy and Tracey to their breakfast. We sauntered through the castle until we finally reached the dungeons. Millicent gave the password and we walked in. Astoria was still playing Gobstones with her friends.

"Don't forget to pack, Astoria!" I said over the general noise in the common room. More students were hanging around now.

"I won't sis!" she yelled back.

"You better not. I'm not helping you last minute again," I lied as Millicent and I stepped back into the dormitory. We packed in silence. There wasn't really much to talk about. Packing never really took me very long. I'm a fairly organized person so it usually was just making sure I had all my clothing and books arranged neatly enough. Followed by making sure all of my hygienic supplies were accounted for. I left them in a small bag at the top of my trunk for use tomorrow morning, along with a change of casual summer clothing for the train ride, and pajamas for tonight.

Millicent was a bit of a mess, throwing clothing all over and trying to come up with some sort of organization, so I wandered over to her bed and started folding the clothing she tossed out.

"Thanks," she said as she noticed I was organizing her stuff.

"No problem," I said. "Packing sucks."

"Yea, never takes you long though," she commented. I just shrugged and folded one of her shirts neatly to top off a pile of clothing.

"Naturally gifted, I guess," I responded. Millicent just rolled her eyes and we packed in silence.

The feast wasn't really anything special. Dumbledore gave another speech about unity and dark times ahead. I have to admit, it was somewhat interesting. But I'm a sucker for good speeches. I think it would have been amazing to hear Churchill during the Second World War, but that's just me. Of course, I also had to admit, dark purely depending on your perspective. Most of the people around me certainly didn't look like they expected dark times ahead. It also probably doesn't help that I got bored halfway through and stopped listening.

Malfoy probably shouldn't have been smirking during the speech. But of course that may have had something to do with how Pansy was rubbing his leg, and not the actual words of the headmaster.

I wasn't particularly hungry when the food finally showed up. But I picked a few things that looked tasty enough and picked at them for the remainder of the meal. My parents would have been rather irritated with me if they were present. I did eat my vegetables, though!

And of course, it happened right at the end of the meal. Astoria wound up beside me and smiled cutely up at me.

"Daphne?" she asked carefully. "Will you please help me pack after dinner? I'm really sorry I lost track of time playing Gobstones." I really wanted to say no and to make her do it herself. But then she'd just whine to mom and dad. And it really wouldn't take me long.

"Fine," I said. "But I'm not helping you unpack at home. And I'm saying right now that I'm not helping you pack next year." I tried to sound as stern as I could, but I'm sure I didn't succeed. She just smiled and gave me a quick hug before moving back to her friends.

"It's funny how you're whipped by your sister," Tracey said. I just rolled my eyes.

"Yea she's a bit of a princess," I commented. "It's just easier than dealing with Mom and Dad whining that I didn't help her."

"She does sort of walk all over you, though," Millicent added.

"Oh hardly," I replied. "She doesn't ask for much."

"But you do it when she does," Draco pointed out.

"If you had a brother, I'm sure you'd help him pack and give answers on his homework," I replied as snottily as I could.

"Probably not," Draco said. And I'll be honest. I didn't think he was lying. But regardless the feast ended soon and we moved as a house back toward the dungeons. I immediately ducked into the younger girls' dorm and attempted to supervise Astoria packing. Of course, she moved too slowly so I wound up just doing most of it for her. She thanked me profusely though, and said I was the best big sister ever, so it was worth it.

After I joined my friends in the common room. The conversation had shifted back to more usual topics. Most fifth years were focusing on what classes they'd have to take next year, assuming their OWLs were good enough. There was some speculation as to who the new defense professor would be too. Nothing out of the ordinary was named. Vincent joked that if he was really back, the Dark Lord would probably be the best man for the job. But only he and Gregory laughed at that. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd spent the whole day waiting to make that comment.

One by one my housemates started to drift off to bed. I'd slept the latest, by far, and wasn't particularly tired. Eventually, it was down to just me, Draco and Pansy in the common room. But after another moment they decided they should do one last night patrol. I'm sure they did very little actual patrolling.

I sat alone for a few minutes and again tried to think of just what my own plan should be. I was starting to see why some people could be annoyed by such organization. When things deviated from your set path it got a bit irritating. I just grew frustrated sitting and thinking so I decided to venture off to bed.

Once there I simply sat and stared up at the lake. I have to admit, the lake view is fantastic during the day. But it has an incredible problem at night time. It's just a dark black abyss. I knew if I stared out at it long enough I'd eventually feel like I was falling into it. And that wasn't something I was really looking forward to. So to avoid it I just rolled onto my side and curled up into the blanket. I imagined some mysterious, sexy boyfriend was holding me and eventually forced myself to sleep.

The next morning came. I didn't feel quite as rested as I probably should have. But that will happen when you force yourself to sleep too much in a short period of time. I rose before the rest of the fifth years and showered quickly, changing into the same uniform I wore the day before, except this time I did put the tie on.

I had plenty of time to kill before I had to get to the train home, so I grabbed one of the books I was supposed to read for next year in Muggle studies and wandered down to the Great Hall for an early Breakfast. I was one of the only students there. I sat at a far corner of the Slytherin table and looked around. A few puffs and a solitary Ravenclaw were also eating. After a moment Potter entered with Granger. I couldn't tell if he looked less beat up than the day before, or if she just looked so terrible that he looked better by association. He did look a tad less despondent than he had yesterday, though.

They both noticed I was staring though, so I just quickly looked back to the book and didn't look up for the duration of my breakfast. I was interested enough in the book that I decided to have another glass of pumpkin juice before returning to the common room.

Naturally it was a mess of people frantically trying to make sure they had all their possessions. I highly doubted the school elves would actually let you lose anything, but they didn't seem to care. I checked up on Astoria just to make sure she had everything, before I went and got my own trunk. Eventually we headed to the train together.

She found a compartment for her friends almost as soon as she boarded. I bought a bag of every-flavored beans and did the same. Tracey and Pansy joined me a few moments later. Followed by Millicent right before the train left.

"Always sad to leave," Pansy said as the train started to move.

"Tell me about it," Tracy commented. "No cute boys for me for two months!"

"There has to be a cute boy somewhere in Birmingham," I said dryly.

"Oh there are plenty. But my parents don't like me to spend too much time out. They claim they miss me," Tracy stated.

"Pity for you. I'll make sure to find twice as many cute ones in London, then," I teased.

"You may want to have a first kiss or a first boyfriend before you round up half of London, Daphne," Pansy responded. Millicent blushed just as much as I had. Tracy dated one of the older beaters for a bit toward the end of the year. We were the two that hadn't. I knew Millicent didn't particularly like the topic. I'd gone on a few dates in the last two years, excluding attending the Yule Ball with Gregory. Mostly the guy had bored me in one way or another, and nothing had come of it.

"They have to be entertaining first," I deadpanned, staring out the window.

"Nah, just cute," Tracey replied. Pansy agreed. After a few more minutes of talking about boys Draco, Vincent and Gregory all showed up.

"We should get our rounds over with," Draco said. Pansy nodded and stood. The two boys joined us in the compartment. I knew they'd stay for a bit until Pansy returned, when they'd join Draco in pestering Potter. At the very least it ended the conversation about boys. Of course, on the downside it ended the conversation in general, as well.

I just started to daydream as the landscape changed. I thought ahead to my next year, and idly wondered if I'd even bother with the NEWTs I knew my parents would both want me to. But they'd also encourage me to follow my dream. They always had. Then again, they may want me at Hogwarts for nothing more than making sure nothing happened to Astoria. Not like anything was likely to happen to her at school.

Eventually, the train pulled into King's Cross station. I gathered my trunk up and said a quick goodbye to my friends before finding Astoria and heading off. Mom and Dad were waiting for us not far off of the platform. Dad smiled fully, both Astoria and looked like him. Same hair and eyes. Mom was next to him, smiling as well. She waved as Astoria pushed her way toward them.

They greeted us with a hug and the usual platitudes. Dad shrunk both our trunks before taking them. We walked to his car. He liked cars. Claimed they were more fun than side-along Apparation or floo. Especially if you didn't have to hurry. I didn't quite believe him, but it was useless to argue. Astoria and I climbed into the back while he loaded our trunks into the boot. She started chatting happily with our parents. I joined in when I felt I had something pertinent to say. None of us brought up the return of the Dark Lord.

But mostly I just thought. Soon, I'd be home, and I'd have two glorious summer months in London with my family. I loved the summer. I'd have to make it a priority to follow the news this time. But, I had two months to come up with a new plan before I'd go back for my sixth year. Something told me that it would be far more interesting than my fifth year.

Author's Note: So, I know I told just about everyone that I had no intention of ever writing a fic with Daphne as the female lead. And I didn't, really. But while writing a scene in QWC I toyed with the idea in my head. Got bored, and decided to screw around with this. In my own defense though, Daphne isn't just 'the female lead' she's 'the lead'. Originally it started as a sort of sequel to Letters, but I decided against revisiting that story. And yes, I know the title is terrible, but it wouldn't be one of my stories if the title didn't suck.

I also wouldn't expect updates on this at any sort of regular pace, and certainly not the breakneck pace at which I finished Letters. Mostly because this started as a brief idea of exploring narration (which annoyed both of my betas) that turned into 7000 words of, well, whatever this is. I have nothing planned past this chapter, and probably won't think too hard about it for a while.

I've taken a rather liberal arts approach to Muggle Studies. I may revisit that at some point, or I may not. It's hard to say what I'm going to do when I literally have no plan for the plot of this.

As always, I hope you enjoy it. The best way to contact me if you're looking for a response is through a PM. I appreciate all the reviews and support that I get.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit. Also, I did not use a Beta on this chapter so I apologize for any mistakes. Which are my own.

Chapter 2

I loved summer, and not just because I could hang around in a bikini, tan, and be otherwise lazy as hell. I always spent the first few weeks of the summer hanging out at a local pool. I burned the first few days, badly, but managed to come out with a tan after some more time. I like the sun. I always had. My parents almost sent me to Beauxbatons simply because they knew how much I preferred warmer weather. But their alma mater won in the end.

Some days I had to take Astoria with me. Those days were often a bit boring. It wasn't like I didn't appreciate her company, it was just that I rather flirt shamelessly with some cute London boys rather than keep an eye on my sister. A bit selfish, I know, but it was summer! I had to watch her enough at school.

I'm not going to lie, either. It was very nice to not have to wake up early every single morning. And it was also a huge plus to have my own room. Not that I really minded the dorm mates, but I rather have the space any time. And, you know, sometimes a girl just needs some alone time.

But, as I said, summer was for lazing around and enjoying whatever it was you enjoyed. I did miss my friends, which was one of my biggest complaints with my house. Most of the old Pureblood families had estates elsewhere and traveled to the city when they needed to. I knew a couple of Ravenclaws, a few 'Puffs, and even a Gryff that lived in London, but none of my fellow snakes. They weren't the best for letter writing, either. But we did usually make time to have lunch once during the summer. Typically it was when they were all in Diagon Alley to buy their school supplies.

I pulled my lazy, but attractive, if I'm allowed to comment, ass out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. I hadn't bothered to check what time it was, but it was likely around noon. That was typically the time I woke up over the summer. Kind of lame, I know, but I liked my sleep. If I ever managed to snag a boyfriend, one of my fantasies actually was just lazing around in his arms, half asleep, for most of the day. For now I had to settle with big thick warm blankets and my imagination.

My morning, well afternoon, shower went fairly quickly. As did the rest of my hygienic ritual. I slipped into my green bikini, as I planned on heading to the pool again later, and then threw on some shorts and a tank top. After pulling my still damp hair back I wandered toward the kitchen. Astoria was there, making herself some lunch, as was my mother. Both Astoria and I took after her.

"Finally awake, Daphne?" she asked as I entered the kitchen and sat at the table. Both my parents gave me endless amounts of crap about not being up at the crack of dawn. I looked at the clock, it was only quarter past noon.

"Early for me," I said, trying my best to sound cute. My mother scoffed.

"If Astoria didn't insist you were awake every morning at school, I'd be worried. But I suppose your test scores will tell us for sure," mother responded. That was the downfall of having two Ravenclaw parents. Grades and test scores were kind of crucial.

"I already told you what they'll be. Bad in Charms, bad in Defense, and good in everything else," I said. We'd discussed this many times. But my parents didn't like for me to be bad in anything.

"You should have studied much harder if you know two of them aren't going to be good," mother scolded. I rolled my eyes.

"It's not like they were subjects I wanted to continue with anyway," I attempted to argue.

"Charms are pretty important, Daphne," she countered. I didn't really have a way around that argument so I changed the subject.

"Later shift at the hospital?" I asked. Mom worked a few shifts as a healer during the weeks. But she just did that because she liked helping patients. She spent the majority of her time researching ways to implement some Muggle medicines into wizarding practices with varying levels of success. She'd been focusing on their pills of late.

"Yes, two to eight, your father will probably be home around six," she said. It was a bit of a pointless statement. Dad was always home around six. He worked full time at a Muggle hospital, but helped mom with her experiments fairly often. Astoria shared their interest in medicine. I was more interested in language and history.

"What are we doing for dinner?" Astoria asked. Mom shrugged.

"I don't know, honey. I won't be home. Perhaps your father will take the two of you out."

"That would be fun," Astoria said. She loved dressing up and going out.

"I bet," mom responded. "And what about you, Daphne? Do you have plans today?"

"Not really. I was going to go to the pool again. Perhaps I'll make some brownies."

"Brownies again?" Mom asked. "Why don't you ever make real food?"

"Brownies are real food," I argued.

"Real fattening food," Astoria commented. It was something she'd heard mom say a bunch before, but it was still a bit irritating.

"You don't have to eat any," I replied a bit more snottily than I would have liked. Astoria rolled her eyes. Mom laughed.

"But they're so delicious," Astoria whined.

"I know. That's why I make them,"

"Can I help?" Astoria asked.

"If you like," I responded, not really caring either way. It would take me less time by myself, but Astoria liked to feel important.

"Awesome!" she exclaimed as she started to gather up the ingredients from a nearby cabinet.

"You going to the pool later, Daphne?" Mom asked as she started to gather up her things to head to work.

"Probably," I admitted, pulling the brownie recipe out despite the fact that I had it memorized.

"Take your sister with you, will you?" She asked quietly enough so that Astoria couldn't hear. I frowned.

"But she's such a drag," I whined. "And it totally ruins my sight-seeing."

"I'm sure you'll still get an eyeful of cute boys, Daph," Mom chided. "But it can't be good for Astoria to sit around the house all day."

"Fine, if she wants to go, I'll take her. But I'm not going to drag her," I responded. I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best to look annoyed. Mom just rolled her eyes.

"Make sure you ask her in a way that indicates you don't abhor spending time with her," she ordered before stepping out of the kitchen. A moment later Astoria finished gathering ingredients. My sister placed them all on the counter and looked expectantly at me.

"You forgot the vanilla," I commented as I looked them over.

"Oh!" she gasped and rushed to the cabinet where it was stored. She returned a moment later, placing the bottle carefully next to everything else. I moved over toward the fridge to fetch a couple of eggs.

"What did mom want?" she asked as I grabbed a pan and started to grease it.

"She wanted me to invite you to the pool later when I go," I responded. Astoria's face lit up and I knew immediately that there was no way I'd be able to convince her not to come.

"Really?" she asked with far too much enthusiasm.

"Yea. So do you want to come?" I asked as I started on the brownies.

"Of course!" she yelled. "I'll go get changed!" She ran off toward her room.

"Astoria! Wait!" I yelled after her. She paused and looked at me.

"What? I have to get ready!" she argued. I laughed.

"We can't go until the brownies are done. You'll have plenty of time to get ready while they bake!" I teased. Mom laughed a bit as she picked up her purse.

"Oh," she said with a slight blush. "You have a point."

"I know I do. Now get the sugar ready!" I ordered.

"Alright!" she complied rather quickly, checking the recipe to make sure she measured it correctly. I made her do most of the work. Despite claiming to have no interest in cooking or baking she did always want to help out. I'll admit, though, it was nice to have a kitchen bitch.

It didn't take us very long to whip up the batch. Sometime in the middle mom stepped back into the kitchen to tell us she was leaving. I was busy beating the batter at the time. I heard the oven beep, indicating that it had finished preheating. I tossed the pan in and set the timer. When I turned around, Astoria smiled up at me.

"Can I go get ready now?" she asked excitedly. I couldn't help but laugh as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She looked like she was doing her best to not simply jump up and down. I was a bit taken aback. Astoria had never shown much interest in hanging out with me at school. I'd never thought she'd want to hang out with me at home. Then again, both our friends weren't around.

"If you like, you have like a half hour," I commented as I wandered toward the living room. I tossed myself onto the couch and turned on the television. I should have probably been working a bit more on my Muggle Studies summer reading, but I didn't particularly feel like it. We were reading stuff from the Lost Generation, all that Paris in the twenties jazz too. Call me nuts, but I preferred the war stuff from last year. _Tender is the Night_ sat nearly untouched on my bedside table. I missed the good British stuff we read in fourth year. But Professor Babbage had indicated some of that would come back this year.

Astoria came back a few minutes later. I was still stretched out on the couch, but I'd moved the book I was supposed to be reading onto my chest. Maybe in a few minutes I'd make an attempt at reading it. Probably not.

"I still can't believe you're in Muggle Studies," she said quietly. Astoria had gone the more traditional route of Divination and Creatures despite my praise for Runes.

"It's interesting," I said. That was usually as far as I got in my defense of it. Most of my housemates shrugged after that and went about their business.

"It just seems like a lot of reading," Astoria commented. She sat on a chair and looked at the television. "It's all you do over the summer. It's almost as bad as Granger." That wasn't entirely true. But I did typically have book with me over the summer holiday. Professor Babbage didn't really assign summer projects. She just gave us the syllabus for the next year in case we wanted to get a head start on things. I tried to get the reading done through December on my summer holiday. It made things easier when the year started.

"I read ahead," I commented. Of course, I realized that made me sound even more like Granger, which was a bit of a sickening thought. Regardless, I was willing to bet that she didn't spend most of her summer half-naked ogling boys while pretending to read. That made me feel a bit better.

"Still, I don't get it. Why is it so much reading? I mean it shames History of Magic. Not that anyone actually does that reading." I did that reading. Well, some of it at least. Goblin wars could be rather entertaining.

"Professor Babbage claims that the best way to understand them is through their literature. And it shows a distinctly human quality too. She says it's important to remember we are all human. It helps us understand more about them and ourselves," I explained. It was a paraphrase of one of the speeches the professor gave the class on one of the first days in third year.

"Ourselves? How? They're not magical how could you relate?" Astoria asked. I frowned a bit. I was starting to suspect that she was beginning to favor some of the more common sentiments from our house than what our parents had attempted to drill into our heads.

"It's hard to explain. But you can really relate with the characters. And sometimes their writing is just amazing," I responded. Astoria just shrugged.

"Well if you insist. You're the weirdo that wants to go to a Muggle University after graduating," she commented. I couldn't help but role my eyes. It was becoming rather easier to remember why Astoria and I didn't spend too much time together at school.

"Dad did, you know," I argued.

"Yes, but he used magic and cheated his way through," Astoria said. "He'd just wanted to get it done so he could work with Muggle patients and make even more money." It was true that was what he'd claimed, but I expected that wasn't entirely the truth. Dad never struck me as the type to cheat his way through anything.

"Regardless," I said icily. "That's not too far off of what I want to do. But I'm more interested in law than medicine."

"Then just join the ministry," Astoria said matter-of-factly.

"I'd rather not go the political route with it," I said. Astoria shrugged as if she didn't particularly care, and thought I was being stupid. She'd have probably responded but timer on the brownies buzzed so I wandered back into the kitchen to check on them. They didn't seem done so I decided to give them another two minutes. I took my book back up to my room, despite the fact that I had another up there I still needed to read. On my way back toward the kitchen I grabbed a couple of beach towels. I tossed them onto the counter and pulled the brownies out of the oven. They appeared to be done, I'd just have to let them cool.

"They done?" Astoria asked as she walked into the kitchen. She was holding something in her hand.

"Looks like it," I said. "What's that?"

"An owl came for you," she said and slid the letter across the counter to me.

"Is it my test scores?" I asked, feeling rather hesitant about that. I knew they were due to come soon, but I was hoping to have a few more days without my parents being mad at me.

"No. It wasn't a school owl," she said. I couldn't help but let out a long relieved sigh. "But I do sort of recognize the seal on the letter."

"Oh?" I asked, picking the letter up. My name was written in a harsh cursive across the front.

"Yea I can't think of it though," she frowned. I turned the letter over and recognized it almost immediately.

"It's from Draco," I said dumbly.

"Oh? He's cute. You think he broke up with Pansy?" She asked, seeming far more interested in that concept than I would have liked.

"I doubt it," I said as I broke the seal and started to read the letter. Astoria watched me rather impatiently.

"Well what does he want?" she asked when I was about halfway through the note. It wasn't very long, but Draco tended to write more formalities than actual letter.

"Nothing really. He wants me to join him for lunch in Diagon alley," I said.

"So we can't go to the pool?" she frowned. I laughed a little bit.

"Oh no, we're still fine. We can leave now, too, if you like," I said. Astoria looked stunned.

"You're not going to meet him for lunch?" she gasped. I laughed again.

"No. I will. If mom and dad let me go out. That's just not until tomorrow," I said. Astoria nodded a little bit.

"Why wouldn't mom and dad let you?" she asked. I laughed a little bit. She was so clueless it was almost cute. Still, as a family we hadn't discussed, or even really mentioned, the Dark Lord's return. But it was pretty clear they didn't want us wandering around too much. To be honest, I was rather surprised that they let me wander down to the local pool so often. But it was a Muggle area, and I was only ever there during the middle of the day anyway.

"Dunno. But it's always proper to ask permission," I teased with a smile.

"They better let you. Lunch with Draco Malfoy! That's going to be so romantic. He's so charming!" I rolled my eyes.

"He's dating one of my best friends, Astoria, and besides, I doubt that it will just be the two of us. Now do you want to go to the pool?" I wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. My sister was a bit enamored with Draco. It was a tad annoying, really. I wish he hadn't been given the run of Slytherin house for her entire tenure in school.

"Of course I do," she said before gazing at the clock. "But we're only going to get to be there for a few hours," she whined.

"Trust me, with how pale you are, a few hours is all you need," I teased.

"You know, some of us do stuff other than lay around in the sun," she retorted.

"Like what?" I asked, knowing full well Astoria's summer usually consisted of a lot of television.

"Oh shut up. Did you grab the towels?" She asked, doing her best to change the subject. I went along with it, mostly because I wanted to get out of the house quicker.

"Course I did," I said, gesturing to the towels I'd left on the counter.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go!" I laughed a tad at her enthusiasm and before I knew it we were off to the pool.

It was a very nice day at the pool. Which was nice mostly because it had been like raining or misting for far too often this summer. The pool, a large outdoor complex, was only a few minute walk from our home. Astoria whistled the entire way. It was a tad annoying, but I didn't have the heart to tell her off for it.

I snagged two chairs as soon as we arrived. After spreading out my towel on one I quickly stripped down to my bikini. I couldn't help but smirk as I noticed a few boys watch me rather intently. I rather liked that. I sat on the chair and stretched rather luxuriously.

Astoria stripped to her suit as well. She had a rather modest one piece on and ran toward the water almost immediately. She hopped in, gasping a bit at the temperature. A moment later she was playing with a group of kids around her age. I was fairly impressed. Astoria could really integrate herself into just about any group of people. It was a gift we didn't particularly share. I only watched her for a moment, just to make sure that she was okay. But after a few moments I got sick of that and gazed around the pool.

There was a fairly good crowd. I'd have guessed the majority of the people there were within a few years of my age. The male talent was also fairly good that day. Better than it had been in my last couple of trips. The lifeguard was by far the hottest though, despite how cliché that has to be. I admired him for a few minutes before gazing around the area for another moment. A few others caught my eye, but nothing that I spent very long wandering about. After checking to make sure Astoria wasn't in any sort of trouble I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my body. I moved my hands behind my head and hoped I wouldn't fall asleep and fry. After just a few moments, though, a familiar voice disturbed that silence.

"Damn," he said softly. I could hear his smirk. "I dated the wrong fifth year." I didn't respond for a moment. Instead I slowly opened my eyes and gave him the most appraising look I could muster.

"Oh really, Titus?" I responded. The words made my stomach clench for just a moment. There had been a time I'd had a very large crush on Titus Button, but that time had passed when he'd started dating Tracey. And it hadn't come back. Mostly because he hadn't been a particularly good boyfriend to Tracey. They'd only lasted a couple of months, if that, and too many nights had ended with me comforting a crying Tracey for me to ever have feelings for him again.

"Oh yes. Had I known you looked that good in a bikini, I'd have been all over that," he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"Nice to see you too, Titus," I responded dryly. He laughed a bit.

"I bet it is," he said taking a seat on the chair Astoria had placed her towel on. I noticed that he just wore a pair of blue swim trunks. He was in much better shape than I remembered. Of course it wasn't like I'd seen him shirtless before.

"Yes. But why, may I ask, are you at a Muggle pool in London?" I asked. I'd forgotten where he was from originally, but I didn't think it was the city. I paused for a moment before remembering an article I'd read the other day. "Oh and congratulations on being drafted by Ballycastle." He'd just graduated that last year.

"Thank you," he responded with a full smile. "I was supposed to go up there today, but I sent them a message that I was feeling a tad under the weather. It was such a nice day I figured I'd extend my time in London for a bit. May I ask you the same question?"

"I'm here with my sister," I said, giving a nod toward Astoria. "We actually live just up the block. Dad loves this area of London. He likes to be able to walk to the Hospital in the morning." Titus gave a quick nod.

"That's right," he said. "The Muggle doctor parents."

"Not quite," I frowned. "Mom works at St. Mungo's. She's just qualified to work with Muggles as well."

"Interesting," Titus responded. I didn't think he found it particularly interesting. "Others in our esteemed house know your parents work with the Muggles?"

"Yes," I responded, raising an eyebrow. It seemed a silly question since he was the one that brought it up. "They've been to my home. Seen the appliances and what not. They mostly think that my father exploits Muggles for money."

"Doesn't he?" Titus asked. I could tell he was joking, but the concept still bothered me.

"No he does not," I said as bitchily as I could. "He actually cares for his patients. Yes, it pays more than a healer at St. Mungo's, but he enjoys it and would do it for less. And being a lead healer at St. Mungo's is nearly impossible at this point. There just isn't the demand." I scoffed, turning my head away from him. He just laughed.

"I bet," he said, surprisingly not sounding sarcastic. "I'm sorry that I offended you. But you must know that's what most of the students say about your father."

"They're ignorant little pricks," I said.

"Perhaps," Titus commented. "But with the way things may be playing out now, Daphne, you're going to have to take some of that. I mean, gasp, your parents are helping those animals. You're going to have to make sure you're on the right side." He relaxed into a chair, staring out at the pool. I gazed back over at him, moving a strand of hair away from my face.

"And which side should I be on?" I asked, not actually sure of what his answer would be.

"That's up to you, Daphne," he responded. It was slightly difficult to take him seriously as he eyed a rather buxom blonde that walked past. I thought I was prettier, but she certainly had better, well larger, assets.

"Obviously, which side are you going to be on?" I asked. Part of me doubted he'd give me a very honest answer.

"Neither," he responded. "You see, I don't particularly care about the outcome of the coming war. I just want to play Quidditch." I shook my head.

"Well, I want to be on the side where no one dies," I said. He laughed a bit.

"That's usually the side to be on," he joked.

"I guess," I said. We sat in silence for a few minutes before it started to annoy me. I didn't particularly feel like talking of the Dark Lord or pending wars, so I did my best to change the subject. "Well, what are you up to before your season starts, then?"

"Not much," he admitted as he watched a brunette this time. "I was planning on visiting a cousin of mine for a few days and then just hanging out. I should probably look for an apartment in Ballycastle too, but I haven't decided on how I feel like traveling to the stadium every day."

"I see. Is he cute?" I asked, mocking his usual response whenever anyone mentioned a family member. I just hoped his cousin was male.

"He's not bad," Titus deadpanned. "He likes to go fast. Asked me what the fastest I'd ever driven was. Didn't have the heart to tell him I'd never driven a car, so I told him the top speed of my broom. He wasn't impressed."

"Well you are a bit of a slow-poke," I commented. He just rolled his eyes.

"If you insist. Have you ever driven though?"

"As a passenger, never as a driver. Dad likes cars," I said. He nodded.

"Looks kind of boring and like it takes too long. I spent like fifteen minutes watching the

Muggles go around some circle thing. Looked stupid."

"No argument from me," I said. "I'd rather just jump in the floo."

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I don't like the floo. I always have to sneeze coming out of it."

"Well you can apparate."

"You're going into your sixth year, right?" He asked, but he didn't give me any time to answer. "Well just wait for the class on it. It's very unpleasant as well. Always gave me a bit of a square peg, round hole feeling."

"If you insist," I said. Both my parents had taken me along at one point or another. I didn't think it was that bad. It always seemed to take a lot out of them, though.

"Oh I do. You'll see," he said. "Now, any interesting plans for the rest of your summer? Or are you just looking forward to going back to school and getting bossed around by your sister some more?"

"She hardly bosses me around," I said. Of course, as I said it, I realized that I had no idea where she was. I gazed around for a moment, trying to not look concerned. I saw her a few seconds later. She seemed to be having fun so I looked back at Titus. "But yes. I'm going to lunch with Draco tomorrow."

"Oh really?" he crossed his arms and shook his head a bit. "Has that little bastard finally dumped Pansy?"

"No idea. He just invited me to lunch. Seemed like bad manners not to go," I said. I hoped he hadn't dumped Pansy. Not that I particularly cared about their relationship status, but having her talk about how awesome of a boyfriend he was seemed to be preferable conversation to her complaining constantly about him.

"Well don't date him, he bothers me," Titus said. I raised an eyebrow.

"And I should pay attention to who you want me to date, why?"

"Valid point. But he's a prick, you can't like him."

"I never said I did. Just that he invited me to lunch," I explained.

"And why would he do that?"

"Because we're friends?"

"Does Draco strike you as the type of person that does things for his friends?" Titus asked. I opened my mouth to comment, but when I couldn't think of anything I just closed it and went back to monitoring Astoria. He just laughed. "Exactly."

"So he's not a great friend. Regardless, I'm not about to go out with him. But I'll take a free lunch any day."

"You turned me down," Titus said.

"You treated one of my best friends like shit," I responded. He winced a bit.

"Tracey was a bit annoying," he attempted to defend himself. I just laughed.

"That seems to be a common trait with you and girls. In fact, I'm willing to bed that if I were fully clothed, I'd be a bit annoying right now."

"Well, maybe," he smirked and acted all suave. I rolled my eyes. We talked for a few more minutes then. He was annoyingly flirty, but that was pretty much Titus Button in a nutshell. He leered a bit too much at me, but I didn't mind as much as I probably should have. He left not too long later, deciding to try his luck with a brunette that was also leaving. I wished him the best, although I hoped he got shot down miserably.

I let Astoria screw around for a few more minutes, mostly because I was too lazy to get up and fetch her. But eventually I knew we should be heading home so I tossed my clothing back on and wandered over to grab her. She didn't particularly want to go but for once she actually listened to me. I was treated to a play-by-play of her day adventuring with local London kids. It was fairly amusing and I was glad she enjoyed herself.

Dad was home when we arrived back. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the evening paper. I notice the pan of brownies was partially eaten in front of him.

"Hello girls," he said as we entered. "Where were you?" He sounded concerned, but not angry, which was probably a good thing.

"We went to the pool!" Astoria exclaimed as she skipped into the kitchen. She cut herself rather large brownie and sat down in a chair across from Dad.

"Oh? Did you have fun?" He asked, not looking up from the paper.

"Yes, we did," she said, taking a large bite of the brownie. "I met some cool kids who live just around the block."

"That's always fun. Too bad you're going back to school," he commented idly. "Now you're spoiling your appetite. I placed a carry-out for Indian food I'll be picking up in a few minutes, so why don't you go change."

"Right away!" Astoria popped up and ran off toward her room. She really liked the Indian food. I wasn't as big of a fan, but food was food. I nodded and started to walk toward my own bedroom.

"Wait a minute, Daphne," he said from the table. I winced. He had that tone that always make you nervous. I'm sure it was the same tone he used when patients were being particularly difficult.

"Yea what's up?" I asked. He put down the paper and slid a sheet of parchment toward me. I assumed it was the letter from Draco.

"Oh. I was going to ask you about that. I hope that I can go. It's just a lunch in Diagon Alley," I said. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't care about that, Daphne, you're old enough to floo to the alley by yourself for lunch." He gave a nod toward the parchment again. I looked down at it again and swallowed hard.

"Test results?" I asked.

"Mmhmm," he responded.

"How did I do?" I tried to muster my cutest smile, despite knowing full well that it wouldn't have any effect on my father.

"Check," he said. I gulped again before picking up the parchment. I ignored the text at the top and just looked at the marks. They weren't bad. In fact, I'd have thought they were pretty good, but Ravenclaw parents were always a little grade obsessed. I'd managed an O in History of Magic, Muggle Studies, and Transfiguration. I an E in two classes, and those were Ancient Runes and Defense. I had to admit I was rather surprised at the Defense grade. I'd thought the practical was just terrible, but the written portion must have gone fairly well. I'd managed two A's as well. Those were in Potions and Herbology. Unfortunately, and I knew I'd probably take serious flack for this, the other two grades were Ds. And I knew I'd probably need a better excuse than simply expressing my hatred for both Charms and Astronomy.

"I think I did pretty well," I said putting the parchment down.

"You failed two classes," he said bluntly. I noticed he'd crossed his arms over his chest. That was never a particularly good sign.

"Yes but I wouldn't have taken them anyway," I said.

"So you intentionally failed them?" He asked, raising his eyebrows when he spoke.

"Well no. But I've always sucked at Charms! And Astronomy? Really? It's not like I'm a werewolf. And if I were then big white orb is bad. Small sparkly orbs are still pretty and harmless," I argued. He just shook his head.

"Both your mother and I passed all nine of our classes. I had seven Os. Your mother had eight. You'll be lucky to even be in five classes next year," he was trying to sound mean. It worked, but his logic was a tad absurd.

"Hardly, Dad. I have five at O or E. And five is the usual amount of classes sixth and seventh years take anyway."

"And you simply want to be adequate? We've raised you to always strive to do the best you possibly can. Is this the best you can do?" He tapped the parchment with one finger as he finished speaking.

"Probably," I admitted. "We both know I've never been able to get a charm to actually work. And Astronomy? I mean come on. It's not like I see you and mom stargazing every other night." I did my best to pout. He just shook his head. Thankfully, at that moment Astoria came prancing back into the kitchen.

"Where's the food?" she asked when she entered. Dad laughed, which was nice as I stopped feeling like I was being interrogated.

"I was just having a conversation with Daphne about her test scores. But how about you two go pick it up?" He took out his wallet and slipped out a credit card, tossing it at me. I caught it.

"Okay!" Astoria exclaimed before dragging me back out. The Indian place we frequented was only a few blocks away. Astoria chatted away about nothing in particular. It only took a few minutes for us to arrive at the restaurant. Our food wasn't ready and Astoria insisted I buy her a Soda at the bar. We sat for a few moments before she changed her conversation topic.

"So were your test scores just awful?" she asked. I couldn't tell if she was teasing.

"No, but you'll find out that our Ravenclaw parents are a bit uppity about grades," I said. Astoria, though, generally did a bit better than me. But the gap wasn't that large.

"They never really comment on my marks," she said.

"Just wait. Soon you won't be able to use the 'well I got better grades than Daphne' excuse," I teased.

"Well I don't know," she responded demurely. "From the sound of it you want to go to school forever."

"Well yes, but not for magical things," I responded. Astoria shrugged a tad as I paid for the carry out. She finished her soda quickly and we walked back home. This time she commented on my interest in the Muggles. Like many in my, well I suppose I should say our, house she didn't quite understand my interests.

Mom had returned home, earlier than she'd thought, by the time Astoria and I got back. She helped me organize the food as Astoria set the table. Mom didn't mention my grades, but I knew that was probably coming soon.

We ate as a family, but didn't particularly talk about much. Mom and Dad were discussing the best way to treat one of Dad's patients. I didn't particularly listen to their conversation because medical things kind of gross me out, and I didn't really care. Astoria seemed more interested. Perhaps she had a bright future ahead of her as a healer. I know I didn't.

When we were finished I started to clear the plates. I didn't normally clean up, but it seemed like a decent idea to get cheer up the parents. Astoria rushed off to watch one of her favorite television programs. My parents just sat for a bit before Mom got up to help me.

"So five classes next year," she said after a few minutes of rinsing off dishes.

"Six," I corrected. She raised an eyebrow.

"History, Muggle Studies, Transfiguration, Defense, Runes and?" she asked as she started filling the dishwasher.

"Herbology," I responded. "You can still take that with a basic passing grade. I'd have preferred potions but I doubt Professor Snape will let me take it." It was the best I'd been able to think of since my brief conversation with dad. It seemed to surprise mom, though, so that couldn't hurt.

"You hate both of those," she commented.

"I do, but it's another class. If I really hate it I can drop it going into seventh year."

"So you're going for your seventh year?" Mom asked. That caught me a tad off guard. So far they hadn't really given me a choice. They knew what I'd have liked to do, but hadn't really said the decision was up to me.

"I don't know," I admitted. Which just drew an appraising look from both of my parents. "I'd still like to study Law. And. Well I know we haven't talked about it. But there's going to be a war, I'm not stupid. Most of my friends will be with He-who-must-not-be-named. It may not be a bad idea to not be at Hogwarts." My parents exchanged a look between themselves.

"We don't disagree with you, Daphne," my father said from the table. "But your mother and I don't know what may happen if you're amongst the Muggles during the war. Really, the only different contact we've had from wizarding families is the letter you received from Draco today."

"Do you think that could be about the war?" I asked.

"I would doubt it," Mom said. "Using children to facilitate a strategy or plan isn't usually the best idea. But there's always been rumors with the Malfoy family. Just be careful."

"Do you not want me to go?"

"I would be surprised if it was anything unusual, Daphne," Dad responded. "But we've always taught you to be careful and pay attention."

"That you have," I said. "Draco was almost giddy when he read about the Dark Lord's return." I noticed my parents shared a glance when I used that term for him. I hadn't even thought about it. It was just what most of Slytherin used, opposed to He-who-must-not-be-named or You know who.

"Well I'm sure it will be a nice afternoon," Mom responded with a faux cheeriness. I could tell they wanted to talk without me from the glance she gave dad. "Make sure you enjoy yourself."

"I will," I responded as I took the last plate from mom, rinsed it, and put it into the dishwasher. "But I'm going to go read now. Thanks for dinner, Dad." I slipped out of the kitchen and headed toward my room. At least my parents talking about something would lessen their annoyance at my marks.

I changed into my pajamas quickly before flopping down onto my bed and picking up my book. But I couldn't bring myself to read quite yet. Part of me wanted to go eavesdrop on my parents, but a larger part was comfortable and didn't feel like getting off my bed. So instead I just stared up at my ceiling fan and thought about what tomorrow might bring.

I couldn't fathom that Draco would be doing the Dark Lord's bidding by inviting me to lunch, despite how he seemed to think his family held some sort of exalted status. Still, it was very rare he did much with anyone outside of Pansy during the summer. I wondered if Titus Button was right. Perhaps he wanted me. That was an interesting thought. If there wasn't an impending war I'd likely consider it. But now? My goal was to be safe and uninvolved. And cavorting with Darco wasn't likely to lead to either of those.

Eventually, I gave up on thinking. I dragged myself out of bed turned off the lights, and switched on the ceiling fan, before crawling under the covers. I couldn't help but be excited for tomorrow, no matter what the day would bring. And soon I'd be heading back to school which, despite signaling the end of summer and warm days at the pool, was always something to look forward to.

Author's Note: I'm still not particularly sure where I'm going with this. I was just struggling with some original work and took a break to write this chapter. I'd planned to include the Draco Lunch scene, but that will have to wait until the next chapter. Which will also include Daphne going back to Hogwarts. As stated, I didn't have this beta'd so any mistakes are my own. And, since I edited it at three in the morning while feeling half asleep, I probably should have held off on posting it.

Anyway, thanks for the support and reviews, I appreciate all of it. The best way to contact me is likely via PM.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit. Also I have no current beta for this story so any mistakes (and I'm sure there are some as I edit too late at night) are entirely my own.

Chapter 3

I woke a tad earlier than normal the next morning. Mostly because my Mother banged on my bedroom door and told me to get up if I expected to actually be remotely on time for my lunch date. I threw the deliciously warm covers off my body and sat up in bed. That was a poor idea. My room was freezing. I'd left a window open, which I did nearly every night. But on this late August morning, with that annoying misty rain, the open window was a rather large mistake.

So I pulled one of my blankets off the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders before deciding to brave the chill. I moved to the window and looked out it for a moment before closing it. London looked rather damp and dreary. Of course, that wasn't particularly unusual. Once the cold started to pierce through the blanket I slipped into my bathroom and prepared for the day.

It wasn't until I was dressing, in rather form fitting black jeans and a green and white checkered blouse, that I remembered the concerns my parents had expressed the night before. I pressed my lips together as I started to dabble with my makeup and ponder that. I still didn't think it would be anything major. I mean, why would it? We were just silly sixteen year old kids. And, as I told Astoria, I doubted it'd even just be the two of us. I put the finishing touches on my lipstick and walked toward the kitchen.

Mom was there, getting ready for another shift at St. Mungo's. She was slicing an apple and putting it into a small dish. Which she then offered to me.

"So you don't eat brownies for breakfast," she said with a smile. I shook my head a bit.

"But I like brownies."

"And so far they haven't ruined your figure. I remember when I had your metabolism. It doesn't last, Daph," she teased.

"I'm going to savor it while it does then," I responded, but took a bite of apple. It wasn't bad. But that was the best compliment I could pay it.

"You look nice," Mom changed the subject. "Very Muggle, though."

"Duh. I look awesome in green. At least the sorting hat was smart enough to pick green over blue. And most of the students dress like this when not in uniform," I said. Mom nodded, she knew it was true. It also didn't hurt that my parents both had full Muggle wardrobes.

"I don't think I've ever seen Draco not in robes," Mom commented. I wasn't sure I had either. Except for the rare occasion when he pulled off the top layers on a warm evening in the common room. "And I seriously doubt the hat picked your house based on your color preference."

"Well I'm not trying to impress him or anything," I responded. "And it's not like he doesn't know how I dress, and hasn't leered at me in a bikini laying by the lake."

"You've worn a bikini out to the lake?" Mom asked, looking slightly impressed.

"Once or twice on very warm spring days," I responded with a slight blush.

"I bet that drew the stares of many of the Purebloods," mom laughed.

"It's not like I wandered through the halls in it. I wore a cover-up and a towel, and went to the far side of the lake. Just a few friends knew where I was and came out to chat."

"Chat? That's what they call it these days?" She teased. I just rolled my eyes.

"Yes, you know, when people come and talk to you about nothing in particular. I'm sure you and dad do it. And I'm sure that you chat at work sometimes," I smiled.

"Amazingly enough, you're right," Mom said. "Who'd have thought that us boring adults do your new fangled chatting!"

"Haha," I rolled my eyes. "Now why did you get me up like an hour before I even needed to get ready to go to lunch?"

"You're date is in the alley, right?" she asked.

"Yea, the little bistro just past the bank," I responded.

"They have a great chopped salad," she said.

"And a better fish and chips," I responded.

"For lunch, Daphne?" she teased. I just shrugged.

"Now you didn't wake me up to ask that," I responded. Mom nodded and took out a small pouch. She tossed it to me.

"You wouldn't mind picking up your and Astoria's books and such would you?" I caught the pouch, hearing the clink of coins and nodded.

"Yea, no problem. I assume you have her class list?"

"It's on the counter. Think you can figure out the potions supplies?" Mom asked as I tucked the bag into my purse. I'd picked a green leather one out of my closet for today.

"They sell kits for each year now. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out. And she can always pick up more in Hogsmead, or order it, if she runs low on something."

"Well, just have it all mailed to the house," she responded. "Makes everything easier."

"Astoria doesn't want to go shopping for her own stuff?" I asked. I usually insisted on going. Of course, I typically had plans to meet various friends on the day I insisted on shopping. Astoria never struck me as that devious. And she never particularly seemed interested in her friends outside of school. Although, she was always very thrilled to see them when the semester began.

"We usually have to drag her along anyway. I'm sure she won't mind," mom responded. She was gathering up her things. She must have been expected at work a bit earlier.

"You're probably right. Have a good day at work," I said.

"Ordering me out?" she laughed.

"No, but you looked like you were on your way out the door," I responded. "And I'm going to read for a bit before heading to the Alley."

"Well have fun, don't get too distracted. Your father and I are going out tonight, so you and Astoria are on your own."

"All the more reason to have the fish and chips for lunch," I smirked. My mother just shook her head as I wandered back toward my bedroom. I knew that their going out meant I'd likely be stuck trying to figure out what would appease Astoria as soon as I got back from my lunch. Indian food usually worked, but Dad had covered that base the night before. I could try for Chinese, I guess. Maybe pizza. Maybe I should just bring her home a nice fish and chips.

Regardless, by the time I'd made it back into the living room, Mom had left for work and there was no sign of Astoria. I knew if I woke her and asked what she wanted for dinner she'd just glare blearily at me. Which, granted, is probably exactly what I'd if I were in her shoes.

I flopped onto the couch and opened my book. I debated turning the television on, but decided against it. It wasn't like I actually knew what was on anyway, but sometimes the noise was nice.

I read for a bit. I was starting to enjoy the book a bit, but the doctor's insane wife was beginning to bother me. He certainly put up with a lot from her. Seemed like he cared quite a bit more for her than she did for him. Then again, she wasn't quite all there, so it made it a bit more difficult to judge what she was really thinking and feeling. And of course, stacked on top of that, was the whole Florence Nightingale thing going on between the two of them bothered me. Doctors shouldn't fall for their patients.

But when I looked up at the clock, after getting a sizable chunk of the book out of the way, I realized I should have left a few minutes earlier. I grabbed my purse and some floo powder and stepped through to Diagon Alley.

The alley was surprisingly deserted. I guess I should have probably expected that, with the whole war thing going on. When I noticed that the Ice Cream store appeared to have closed, and wasn't looking to be in particularly good shape. That was disappointing. I loved the mint chip.

A few other shops appeared to be empty as well. There were a few broken windows around as well. There was a very eerie feeling, too. Everything just seemed off. I should have probably read the Prophet more over the summer. But it was worlds easier to simply not.

I'd always be amazed at how easy it was to forget about the magical world when I was at home. There just were just too few of us and we lived too spread out. Letters could only do so much. A few weeks into the summer holiday I'd always find myself watching the Muggle news on television and find myself completely oblivious to whatever else was going on.

Sure, I knew my parents weren't. They read both papers and kept in close contact with their friends. They would know everything that was going on with the war. I couldn't help but feel a bit like an incompetent child as I looked around the alley. They'd have known. I hadn't even thought about it.

I walked slowly through the alley. There were still people wandering around. But next to no one met my eye. And most kept their distance. I was one of the only ones wearing Muggle clothing too.

The apothecary was the closest shop so I stepped inside. The store owner flinched away from me as I entered. Who flinched from a pretty sixteen year old girl? Then again, some of the shops looked ransacked, perhaps he flinched from everything. I smiled as cheerily as I could and bought Astoria's potion ingredients. I tried to be happy and carefree. But there owner wanted no part of it. The only thing he said to me was the price of the goods. I paid it with an exceptionally cute, practiced, frown and went on my way.

The book store was a tad better. The owner at least recognized that I wasn't a raving murderer and gave me a nice smile. She also sent over a relatively handsome boy to help me out. I recognized him a bit, although I couldn't quite put a name to a face. I expected that if I thought about it for much longer I'd figure it out. But I didn't particularly care. The short of it was that he was a recently graduated Ravenclaw.

I had him find most of Astoria's books first. I recognized many from my fourth year. I should probably just give her my copies, but I liked keeping my books. They were good references. And I doodled in the margins quite often. I didn't recognize her elective books, but that was to be expected. It appeared that Snape had decided on a new potions tome too. This one looked a bit colorful for the head of our house, but the ex-'Claw insisted it was the required text this year.

I gave him my class list then, and he started picking out the books for me. He started with Muggle Studies, I had to steer him away from the fiction, which I'd already picked up at the start of summer. But I did need the basic text, despite the fact that Professor Burbage barely used it. The history book looked fairly interesting. For the first time in two years there wasn't a goblin on the cover. I wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not.

I thanked him with a full wide-eyed smile and reveled a bit in his stammered response and blush. I'm not going to lie, I enjoy being pretty. Sure there were things about me I would change if I was able. But I made due. And here I managed to convince him to carry my books to the counter so I wouldn't have to. Of course, he may have just been being a good employee. I liked to think it was more my natural charm than anything else.

I paid for the books and had the store owner owl them to my address. He said he'd get them out that night and with a smile. I thanked him and made sure to thank his employee again. He blushed more and I couldn't help but giggle as I wandered back into the Alley. My next stop was just for some quills and ink. It went quickly.

After, I wandered past Madam Malkin's taking a moment to gaze in the windows. But I didn't need new school attire so I kept walking. If Astoria needed new clothes she was going to have to tell mom and come get them. Knowing my luck I'd wind up having to take her shopping in Hogsmead for the first weekend there. From there I window shopped at a few other clothing spots, looking at some nice dresses. I couldn't help but wish there were more formal events at school. Maybe I should get a group together to try to get an end of the year dance or something. Nah, way too much effort.

I continued up the main street then. Mostly staring in shop windows. The Alley was fairly vacant, and the few people around were keeping their distance from just about everyone. But, when I finally looked up I couldn't help but laugh.

Yea, I didn't like the Weasley twins. But Wow. Their store certainly did look like it would be better suited in Blackpool than Diagon Alley, but it was impressive none-the-less. Part of me hated them enough that I couldn't fathom even walking into the place. Part of me remembered their last week and the chaos that ensued and couldn't resist.

Inside was chaos. It was amazing. I couldn't believe how packed the shop was for how empty the alley was. I wandered slowly around the shop, avoiding both Weasley twins. I wasn't sure if they'd recognize me. But they seemed more interested in the other people in the shop anyway. They appeared to be more interested in other students in the shop anyway.

None of the products particularly appealed to me. But I had to admit the daydream charms were fairly interesting. And I will also grudgingly admit that I bought a couple. But I bought them to give to Astoria, rather than use myself. She may not be sixteen, but she'd probably get more of a kick out of them than I would.

Once I paid I figured I should probably head toward the restaurant and see if anyone else had arrived yet. I'd still be a few minutes early, but Draco, to his credit, was usually rather prompt. I walked toward Gringotts before turning down one of the smaller side routes. I saw the sign for the bistro a few houses down and walked toward it.

It was fairly empty as well. But that didn't surprise me given the state of the Alley. The host smiled at me and asked if it was just me. I shook my head and went to peer into the dining room. I saw Draco and Pansy, which was a slight relief, sitting at a booth in the corner. Someone else was with them, but he was facing away from me. Pansy saw me and waved. I gave her and Draco a quick smile and wandered over. My only option at the booth was to slide next to the other person. I placed the joke shop bag between the two of us as I sat down before I looked at him.

"Hello Daphne," Theodore Nott said from the side of the booth. I blinked a bit. He and I weren't particularly close. To be honest, I found him a bit whiney. He was a small, skinny boy that I could probably knock over if I leaned on him.

"Hey Ted," I responded, knowing full well he preferred his full name. I turned my glance to Draco and Pansy. Draco was eyeing the bag I'd placed down. "How's your summer been?" I said mostly to my friend, but really the question was open for anyone.

"Mines been great," Pansy said with a smile. She took Draco's arm and rested her head against it, a big smile on her face. "Draco and I have spent quite a bit of time together. We missed you at the Selwyn's party."

"Oh yea," I said. My father had declined the invitation. He hadn't even particularly thought about going. But it put me in an odd position. So I just responded with. "How was it?"

"Fantastic," Pansy said. "Everybody was there. Even Tracey and her parents made it down. That's where we caught up with Theodore and decided to have lunch."

"And invite me," I said. This whole set up was starting to make a bit of sense. The one bit that bothered me was that Theodore deserved his place in Slytherin house. He was as cunning as the rest of us. Why the ruse?

"Well we knew you lived in the city and figured that you wouldn't turn down an invitation to lunch," Pansy responded.

"Never," I smiled. "I'm all for food. Sorry if I kept you waiting too long."

"Not at all," Pansy said. "We'd just arrived a few minutes ago. I personally thought we should have waited for you by the entrance, but Draco wanted to get the table." She glared at her boyfriend just a little bit as she spoke. Draco just shrugged a little bit. He looked a tad bothered so I decided to investigate

"So, Draco. Having a good summer?" I asked. I couldn't help but marvel at my completely amazing ability to start a conversation. But it made them

"Yes," he said bluntly. I looked at him for a moment. It was a fairly warm day, at least for August in London, but he wore a long sleeved button up shirt with a Slytherin crest on the breast. It wasn't that dissimilar from what many students, including him, wore under their robes during the school year.

"Well what did you do," I asked playfully. Draco appeared a bit more stern than normal. His typical arrogant smirk was absent. Which was a shame, as it was one of his best features.

"Helping my mother and father, mostly," he responded.

"Doing what?" I asked, tilting my head to the side and attempting to act like I was actually interested in whatever he did.

"Whatever I could to help," he responded. His voice completely flat. It was making teasing him less fun than it should have been. But before I could continue with the statement Pansy interrupted.

"Yes, he had a boring summer when he wasn't with me," she said with a smirk. From the way she shifted her arm I assumed she was rubbing his leg a bit. And since I didn't particularly feel like hearing, or thinking, about the two of them having sex I went with my only available option for changing the topic.

"And you, Teddy?" I said. He winced a bit at the semi-diminutive I used in place of his name.

"I've been fairly well," he said. "I spent most of the summer with my father." I didn't remember much about his father. If I recalled correctly he was a bit older and a bit of a Scrooge, for lack of a better reference.

"And how was that?" I asked, wondering why he was smiling at me for such a silly question.

"Oh it was fine," Theodore responded. "We went up to an old family estate near Scotland. It was a tad colder than I'd prefer for a summer vacation, but it was still nice. Did some riding, and some hunting. We were there for most of July. Came back for that party Pansy mentioned." He sounded a little unsure of himself as he spoke. He looked at me for the first sentence then down at the table for the rest. He wore a short sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I couldn't help but marvel for a moment at how small his arms looked. Do some pushups kid!

"Well doesn't that sound like fun," I said, mostly sarcastically but I don't think any of my friends caught it.

"It was. What about you, Daph?" he said. I couldn't help but wonder if he thought the diminutive of my name bothered me as well. It didn't, but that's how we thought in Slytherin house.

"Oh I had a great time. I mostly just sat around at the pool and tanned," I said, recounting what was the vast majority of my summer.

"Pool?" Theodore asked.

"Swimming pool," I responded. And when my three housemates still looked confused I continued. "Kind of like a manmade lake. Muggles gather there to play in the water and lay around and be otherwise lazy."

"I see," Theodore responded looking a tad uncomfortable. "Well you did tan rather nicely." I smiled politely at the rather awkward compliment.

"Thanks," I responded. "Ran into Titus Button at one the other day. He was hitting on Muggles, I think."

"That's like him," Pansy said rather snottily.

"I thought so, too," I responded. "But it was still nice to see him. He was going to hang out with some cousin of his before heading up to Ballycastle. He's in just fantastic shape too. Mmm, I could look at that shirtless all day. You have to admit, Pansy, he's a looker." I saw Theodore blush a bit at the comment.

"Yes, he's hot," Pansy said honestly. Draco gave her a quick glare. "He's a dick though, so it's kind of irrelevant." I nodded in a faux agreement. A few moments later a waiter showed up to take our order. I ordered the chopped salad with chicken. Mom would have been thrilled. After the waiter Theodore spoke up again.

"So Pansy said you wanted to be a ballerina?" Theodore asked. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"That would be like Daphne," Draco started but Pansy nudged him rather hard in the ribs. It didn't matter, though. I knew where he'd have gone with that sentence anyway. I'd say he'd have gone with something like 'parents working with Muggles and you dreaming of prancing around for their entertainment.' I'd heard it before. Although it usually had a more joking feel.

"Do I look like a ballerina?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Theodore blushed bit and stammered a response.

"I don't know. I don't think I've seen one before."

"Well I'll give you a hint. I don't. I eat way too much and I grew rather too fond of open-toed shoes."

"But you like to dance?" he asked. I did. I'd danced from the time I was five up until just before fourth year. I'd realized that no practice for nine months of the year didn't really do me any favors. And there was a point when I had wanted to be a dancer. But that hadn't been for years.

"Love it," I said. "But I'm not that good and don't have a whole lot of time to practice at school."

"I'd like to see you dance," he said. I laughed a little bit.

"Well you should have asked me to the Yule Ball then. You'd have had plenty of chances to see it then." He just blushed a bit more. I almost felt bad for him. But then I realized I didn't particularly care. He'd barely spoken to me in the years together in Slytherin, I didn't feel any particular need to be overly nice to him. After a few minutes of silence he continued on the same subject.

"Well what do you want to be then?" he asked.

"Don't know. I'd kind of like to study the law a bit and then become a solicitor. Or maybe an agent," I said. He actually looked a bit surprised by that.

"Like for quidditch players?" He asked.

"If I become an agent, probably," I said. "Some of the agencies are starting to work with Muggles though. Apparently it's easier to charm them with magic and you can just make a killing off of them."

"So you'd just like to make a fortune, eh?" Pansy interjected with a smile.

"Would be nice," I admitted.

"Could always just marry into the money," Theodore said. Pansy laughed as he spoke.

"That's my plan," she said with a smirk up at Draco. He looked down at her. She batted her eyelashes and he just laughed and rolled his eyes.

"There's no fun in that. I'd rather do something other than sit around some old house yelling at the elf to pick shit up," I said. Pansy laughed with me after I finished speaking. But the boys just exchanged a glance between themselves.

"So you stopped at the Weasley's new joke shop?" He was gazing at the bag I'd carefully placed between us.

"Yes. Have you been in there. I have to say I was very impressed," I admitted.

"I hate them," Draco interjected. "Why the hell would I go in to their shop?"

"Because it's got some pretty cool stuff," I countered. "Like a hat that makes your head disappear. These little string ear things that let you eavesdrop on people. Some weird powder that you toss around you and it makes everything pitch black. Smaller copies of that swamp they created last year. All sorts of fireworks. Really just a lot of fairly fun stuff."

"Sounds pointless to me," Draco responded dryly.

"That would be because you are absolutely no fun," I responded. "On a more interesting note, Pansy. They have something I was rather afraid to try. But apparently it's a foundation that matches the color of your skin perfectly."

"Really?" she asked leaning forward in her seat.

"Yea. I didn't get a chance to sample it because a bunch of 'Puffs were screwing around with it. But it appeared to work."

"Well I'm going to have to drag Draco in there to look at that," she said rather matter-of-factly. Draco just groaned at the prospect.

"Oh don't worry," I teased him. "You'll have fun, I promise." He just groaned more.

"Well what did you buy?" Theodore asked. I could sense that he was getting a little annoyed at how little attention I was paying to him. But I didn't particularly care. I still found him a bit more annoying than anything else.

"Oh these daydream charm things. Apparently they give you a thirty-minute daydream that's virtually undetectable," I explained, blushing a little bit. Part of me wasn't quite sure why I admitted to buying them, but they were for Astoria and not myself.

"Looking for a way to avoid classes this year, Daph?" Theodore teased. I was momentarily caught off guard. He was actually flirting with me. I knew it.

"Nope," I responded with a full smile. "They're for Astoria. I figured she'd get a kick out of them."

"Doesn't she hate the Weasley twins even more than you do?" Draco asked.

"Yea I could have sworn you said she wanted to like poison them or something," Pansy chimed in. I just shook my head.

"Well she certainly doesn't like them. But she'll be amused. She likes strange, sappy, overly romantic stuff even more than I do. So I'm sure once she decides to use one out of general boredom she'll be sold." What can I say? I know my sister fairly well. And most of her anger toward the Weasley twins had passed. I'd be willing to bet I was more bothered by the prank they played on her anyway.

"You certainly do seem to be a rather fantastic sister. I always thought you were too nice to Astoria. You'll make a fantastic mother," he spoke slowly. I was gazing around the restaurant, wondering where my salad was when he said it. I didn't think that I'd heard it right.

"Not anytime soon," I laughed. I'd never thought about having kids. Frankly it never really interested me. I suppose if I found Mr. Right and was far enough along in my career it would be an option. But it certainly wasn't a goal.

"Why not?" Theodore asked, looking generally interested in the answer.

"Because I don't want to spend all of my time after school raising a kid," I said. Pansy looked a little shocked, as did Theodore. Draco didn't seem to be paying attention. Our food arrived almost as soon as I finished speaking. I unfolded my napkin and placed it in my lap before picking up my fork and starting to eat. The table was quiet for a few moments. Pansy was the one who broke the silence.

"But why?" she asked, obviously not wanting to let the conversation simply drop.

"Because I have other things I'd like to do," I said. When the rest of the table just stared at me I sighed. "You know, like what we just mentioned. Law, agent or solicitor. Making money, all that jazz."

"But what if your husband is rich?" Theodore asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Then my husband is rich," I said dryly as I speared a bit of salad and ate it slowly. "I'd still prefer to do something with my time and have a life that wasn't limited to being a trophy. And I'd rather not be married and popping out kids at nineteen."

"That's not too unusual, though," Theodore attempted to argue. Despite what he may have thought though, it was unusual. Especially with the infusion of Muggle borns since the Second World War. But 'usual' for many of the Pureblood families was what they did, not what everyone else did. I couldn't help but wonder just how long it would be before the majority of the old blood realized they were the minority. I'm extremely biased, but I think my parents had the right idea.

"Not really," I shrugged. "But regardless I'd rather establish a life for myself than rely on someone else." That drew appraising looks, but I ignored them and went back to my salad. The interrogation was getting a tad annoying. These people were supposed to be my friends. And, especially Pansy, should have known my feelings on this already. It wasn't like the topic was completely foreign in our dormitory. Of course, her goal in life was to marry Draco Malfoy. And Pansy was very egocentric. It wouldn't surprise me if she assumed every other girl's goal had to be similar to her own.

After a few more minutes of silence, though, I needed to get away from it. I excused myself to the bathroom. I was rather glad Pansy hadn't decided to accompany me. Inside the bathroom I simply looked in the mirror for a few moments, before washing my hands, and waiting for what seemed to be a suitable amount of time.

Draco was leaning against the wall outside of the men's room. A quick gaze around the restaurant and I realized that I couldn't see our booth from where we were. He pushed himself off the wall and moved toward me.

"You should make things easier for Theodore," he said. "It will make things easier in the future."

"Easier for what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For the both of you. His father intends to propose a betrothal to your parents. It would strengthen our cause considerably. They will need to come up with a good dowry, though," Draco explained. He looked shocked when I laughed.

"My parents will say no," I said bluntly.

"Why would they do that?" Draco asked. His voice rather harsh.

"Why wouldn't they agree to pay someone to marry me? That's archaic, Draco. I'll marry whoever I like. And that will not be for a few years," I said. Draco looked even more surprised that I was arguing with him.

"The Dark Lord won't like that," Draco said. I simply laughed again.

"Oh? Are you talking to him now? How's he doing? I highly doubt he cares that two sixteen year olds get married. Seems to me he probably has more important things to worry about."

"Marriage alliances are an important way to secure political allegiances," Draco said. I laughed at that too.

"You're a fool, Draco," I said. He flushed and his eyes went wide. "Marriage alliances are archaic. My political views won't change to mirror that of my husband. You know, I have a brain and do think for myself. And my parent's ideals won't change because their daughter married some kid." Draco looked positively flummoxed. I laughed a bit at that. Which was probably a mistake as his eyes hardened and he glared at me.

"You'll marry-" he started, but I interrupted him.

"Whomever I please," I said. Mom would be proud of my proper use of whom. At least I hoped it was proper. I hadn't particularly listened during the whole subject versus direct object lecture she'd gone off on before. I just thought whom sounded better.

"Not if-" Draco started again. But I just shook my head.

"No, Draco. No ifs. I'm not marrying Theodore Nott. Nothing you, or anyone, says will change that. And if that's all this lunch was about then you're a very disappointing friend." I reached into my purse and took out a couple of galleons. It was way more than my share of the lunch should have been. I pressed them into Draco's hands with a curt. "Thanks for Lunch. But I'll be leaving now." I walked quickly back to the table and grabbed my bag from the joke shop. I didn't say a word to either Pansy or Theodore before I left the restaurant.

I walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron. I'd intended to use the floo there to head back home, but instead I walked out into Muggle London. I was seething a bit. Part of me couldn't help but wonder just how much my parents knew. It certainly made their cryptic conversation the night before more curious.

Eventually, when I got sick of walking, I hailed a cab and hoped I had enough cash on me to pay for it. I didn't want to go home and talk to Astoria. Instead I had him take me to the hospital where my father worked.

Once I arrived it didn't take me particularly long to find him. I'd planned on just heading to his office and sitting there until he showed up. Fortunately he was reviewing charts in it when I stepped into the door.

"Daphne?" he asked as he looked up. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Fine," I said. I pressed my lips together. I was trying to act like something was bothering me, but knew it wasn't working.

"How was lunch?" he asked tentatively. I frowned more.

"What did you know?" I asked. I crossed my arms over my chest in the exact same way my mother did when she was annoyed with him. He frowned.

"Can't this wait until we get home?"

"No," I responded quickly.

"We received the betrothal offer from Mr. Nott a few days ago," he explained. "Your mother and I assumed this lunch date was something along the same lines. I take it I was correct?"

"Yes," I said with a long, overly dramatic sigh. "What did you tell Mr. Nott?"

"That whomever decided to marry my daughter had better ask me for her hand himself first. And that he would then have to go down on a knee with a ring and ask my daughter as the choice is entirely hers." I nodded. I couldn't help but smile at my father. He was awesome.

"And if I like Theodore?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Then I'd hope you'd wait until you were older, but the choice is yours," he said, his tone completely flat. I could tell that he knew I didn't, and didn't take the question particularly seriously.

"But you're not going to agree to some archaic betrothal crap, right?" I asked. I hoped my tone didn't betray how worried I was that he might.

"Of course not, Daph. Both you and your mother would try to kill me if I even considered it," he laughed and stood from his desk, placing the papers he was looking over down. "Now is there anything else? Because I need to get to my rounds."

"No. That's it. Thanks dad. Love ya," I hugged him tightly and followed him out of the office. He went about his work while I walked to the elevator and rode it back down. I decided to simply walk back home. The walk didn't take me particularly long but it was long enough to clear my head and attempt to think about what I would do to Theodore.

l days of my summer passed far too quickly. Too soon I found myself helping Astoria pack to go back to school. But that wasn't so bad. It even gave me an opportunity to give her the daydream charms from the Weasley's. She wasn't as interested as I'd hoped. But she was freaking out from not being packed. I finished up for her and went to bed.

The next morning Mom woke us both early. And, after making sure we had everything she and Dad took us to the train station. It was a rather subdued event. We didn't say much. My parents had, a few days before, given me a talk about how I should be careful at school this year. And how Mr. Nott was not happy with my father's answer to his betrothal. He advised me specifically to watch out for Astoria. And he implied that, if things continued much like they were, it may be a very good idea to get me into a Muggle school for next year. But he worried about Astoria.

I hugged my mom and dad before getting onto the train. I stepped into the compartment my friends and I typically shared. I was the first one to arrive. Tracey joined me a few moments later, followed by Millicent. Pansy and Draco were nowhere to be seen. Tracy and I chatted for a bit, mostly about her summer. Neither of them brought up Theodore. I'd be surprised if either of them knew about Theodore.

The carriage ride to the castle was equally uneventful. I zoned out for most of it. Tracey had to ask me a question three times before I actually managed to answer it. And even now I can't remember what the question actually was.

I couldn't help but feel like I was being ignored at the feast, too. Pansy and Draco found us nearly as soon as we sat down. Pansy immediately started to talk with Tracey. Draco just looked around the table as if he couldn't wait for the food to appear. He looked like something was bothering him, but I didn't have the heart to ask. Theodore sat a few places down and talked with a seventh year.

Dumbledore gave a typical speech, I didn't particularly listen to it. I did catch that Horace Slughorn was taking over for Professor Snape as the potions master. My parents had referenced him before, but I knew nothing about him. I didn't particularly care, either, as I had no intention of taking potions. I was a bit surprised that my head of house would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. There were always rumors that he wanted that job more than Potions, but I always just assumed it was crap. He was notorious for only accepting the absolute best students into his advanced classes though. And I suddenly worried that he may not find my test grade to be good enough. That would be a disappointing letter to write home.

I shook the thought out of my head and glanced around the hall. I focused a bit on my housemates. They were all chatting happily, eating and drinking as the feast appeared around us. I couldn't help but feel woefully alone for a moment. I thought everyone was ignoring me. I looked toward Astoria, but she was participating fully in the feast. I thought I was going to hyperventilate. Everything just seemed wrong, almost out of focus. And then…

"Hey Daph, pass the mashed potatoes," Tracey said from my side. I blinked and everything slowed down. Everything seemed to focus again. I took a deep breath and moved the bowl of potatoes over to my friend. She smiled and uttered a thank you as I joined in the feast.

The first night back at school passed pretty normally. I didn't think my housemates were acting any differently. Perhaps the whole attempted betrothal thing wouldn't be nearly as big of a deal as I'd feared. Theodore didn't speak to me. Which at first I thought was a bit strange. But I remembered that he never particularly spoke to me anyway. Pansy did look at me a bit oddly a couple of times during the evening, but for all I know that could have simply been because I was acting strangely.

I was one of the first Slytherins to breakfast the next morning. Which was pretty odd for me. Usually I barely woke up in time to both shower and eat. But I found it harder to sleep than usual and decided to just get up. I was eating some buttered toast and paging through one of my Muggle Studies books when Professor Snape spoke from behind me.

"Miss Greengrass," he said, his dry tone managed to make me feel like I was doing something wrong by simply being awake. I had to admit, some members of other houses were right, he could be creepy. "If you are finished eating we will discuss your schedule now." I swallowed the last bite of toast and nodded.

"Okay, professor," I said, not sure what else there was to say. I dog-eared the book and placed it on the top of the pile I'd brought with me before turning to face him.

"Which classes had you hoped to continue with," he said slowly, almost as if he felt this entire exercise was a waste of his time. I noticed McGonagall and Flitwick were also talking to their students.

"Uhm. Runes, History, Muggle Studies, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Defense," I replied quickly. Snape nodded.

"You have adequate grades for all of them," he responded. "I do not feel you have the drive to succeed in six advanced classes. But as the defense grades in general are pitifully low, I have no reason to deny you." That certainly didn't sound like a ringing endorsement.

"I'll do my best, professor," I said quickly. He just gave me an appraising look.

"Your best will likely not be enough for my advanced class," Snape said bluntly. "You, like many others, will need considerable work to be at the standards I will hold students to." He used his wand to make my schedule appear on a piece of paper and walked off. I frowned when I realized I'd have that very class that morning.

Then I just got angry when his words sunk in. I'd been given marks high enough that the tester obviously thought I was capable! Then again, I remembered thinking that whole thing was a fluke. Maybe Professor Snape was right? I really didn't feel like I knew anything about Defense, which didn't help. I had struggled with relatively simple spells there in the past. But after a combination of Umbridge and Lockhart, who didn't?

I rose from the table, gathered up my books and went to leave the hall. I was more worried Defense than I knew I should be. But that wasn't particularly abnormal for me. I couldn't help but try to think of ways to prove Snape wrong. I knew I'd figure out some sort of way to make sure I had one of the best grades in the class, even if it meant spending hours studying the stupid subject on my own.

I left the great hall and started to wander off in the general direction of the dungeons. Unfortunately, the next thing I knew something larger than me ran square into me. I was knocked onto my ass, my books flying all over the place. My first instinct was to yell and scream at whoever walked into me. But I looked up and saw a flustered Harry Potter quickly trying to pick up my books.

"Potter," I scolded as I pulled myself to my feet. I attempted to glare at him as best as I could. He finished gathering my books and handed them to me.

"I'm sorry, Daphne," he said quickly, blushing quite a bit. It would have been almost cute had I not known he was a total dick. Still, he handed my books back to me quickly. "I should pay more attention."

"Yes, you should," I replied snottily and started to walk away. I couldn't be bothered to admit that I was the one who hadn't been paying attention. I had better things to worry about anyway. Like trying to figure out how to make a stupid, arrogant professor think I deserved to be in his dumb class.

Author's note: Kind of rushed the getting back to Hogwarts bit. But there wasn't a whole lot more I felt like doing with her outside of school. This story probably won't be as long as Letters, but that depends entirely on how far I feel like going with it. I intend to focus a bit more on the internal politics of Slytherin students for the next chapter. And maybe a bit of Muggle Studies too, we'll see.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate all of them. The best way to get a hold of me directly is through a private message on the site. I try to respond to everything there. Thanks again.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: DwellerMan-Underground for some beta work on this chapter. So all this mistakes are his and not mine.

Chapter 4

The first few weeks of school were fairly boring. Granted, that's often the case. I hate the start of the school year. I'm not sure exactly why. Mostly just general laziness, I guess. I spend the start of the year staring out at the lake and wishing I was laying around and tanning myself. Pretty much I don't become that good of a student until it gets cold out. Thankfully, in Scotland, that was typically pretty early in the fall.

My classes started out okay for the most part. Transfiguration was as dull as it typically is. McGonagall didn't even try to make it interesting. The first half of the class was always the same boring lecture. First on the spell, then on how irresponsible and dangerous it was to use the spell for anything other than the stated uses. The practical followed. By the level we were at, it rarely took us the entire allotted period to learn the spell. However, McGonagall's standards were considerably higher than we'd remembered. She started to nitpick far more than before. And getting anything other than an acceptable took quite a bit of effort. The amount of theory homework was almost mind-numbing, too.

For some strange reason, too, she seemed far more interested in group work, than individual work this year. For most of the transfigurations we were required to do involved working with a partner to get enough magic to complete the transformation. Often we worked with heavily enchanted objects. She'd let us pick our partners for now, and Tracey and I were working out pretty well, but she was hinting that they'd be randomly assigned soon, to make us learn how to work together. Either way, it was surprisingly hard work.

History was interesting. I'd like to claim that it was fun. But even I can't say that with a straight face. I really do wish they'd take the time to invest in a better professor for the course. Because the endless, rambling lectures aren't particularly entertaining. But we were finally off of Goblin Rebellions and had moved on to the relatively peaceful, although politically rife, Victorian era in the wizarding community. The class was beginning to delve more into actual politics than it had in previous years.

Herbology was tedious. But it was always tedious at the start of the year. It didn't help that I really didn't care about plants. Or gardening. But Herbology always started as a review of the plants we'd dealt with in the last year. The first few weeks were terrible. Sprout hinted that we'd be moving into a more dangerous greenhouse soon, which promised to be relatively interesting.

Sprout, too, like McGonagall, was starting to focus a bit more on group projects. She at least used the excuse that there were plenty of plants that it was best to approach in a team, rather than alone. Herbology hadn't been exhausting yet, but I wasn't about to assume that would last.

Runes was pretty standard. We'd reviewed some Latin and Greek to start the year, and were now moving into Egyptian. Unfortunately Professor Babbling kept hinting we'd have to learn Sanskrit this year and I really wasn't looking forward to that.

Then there was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Snape was his usual taunting self in it. Thankfully, though, his taunts were almost entirely directed at non-Slytherins. I'm not going to lie, having him taunt Gryffs was considerably better than having him focus on the fact that most of us couldn't cast a non-verbal spell yet. He was just as bad as McGonagall with the homework too. It seemed I had to write an essay after pretty much every class for him. And the topics were never even remotely interesting.

Mostly I spent my time in defense slouched as low in my chair as I could while still bending over my notebook, making sure my quill scribbled furiously at the paper. I did everything in my power to avoid eye-contact and not get randomly called on. Mostly, Professor Snape obliged. But, I was only averaging acceptable work in the class, and I knew my parents wouldn't be particularly thrilled with that.

I really wasn't looking forward to talking to Professor Snape about how to get the magical transcript that would let me apply for Muggle universities and continue my studies in Law rather than the magical realm. Flitwick had helped dad with it. But I hadn't ever heard of a Slytherin approaching Professor Snape about it. At this rate, though, it wouldn't matter. I was beginning to think I'd probably need seven years of magical education. Certainly my grades weren't remotely near where my Dad's had been.

Sure, it was early in the semester, but that just made it worse. Nothing like realizing in late-September that if you don't do a better job you're in for the lecture of a lifetime. At least I had plenty of time to work on it.

And I realize I'm a total downer about my classes. I've already gone over five of them and I can't think of a single thing I'm really looking forward to. I mean I dread even stepping into both Defense and Transfiguration. I suppose History is okay, but the class itself is really boring. I wish I could do some sort of independent study instead.

But then there was Muggle Studies. It made Monday, Wednesday, and Friday bearable. We were still focusing on literature. Mostly The Lost Generation. And we were discussing one of our summer-reading projects. Professor Burbage often spent the first few weeks of the semester going over the summer projects. Or really, letting most of the students make sure they actually did their summer projects. Of course, by the level we were at, that wasn't an issue.

But I should probably be paying a bit more attention to the current group discussion rather than daydreaming about how much I hate my classes.

"I don't know," Susan Bones said from the table next to me. "I think it's fairly liberating. She's finally getting what she wants, after years of being stuck with the philandering doctor."

"Is she, though?" Justin Finch-Fetchley replied from across the room. "I mean, she is kind of nuts." Most of the class laughed at his statement. I figured out the direction the conversation was going there and busied myself by paging through my own book, looking for one of the passages I vaguely remembered.

"And what makes you say that, Justin?" Professor Burbage asked. She was seated a few spots away from Justin in our square table configuration She insisted it helped spur conversation in class. I wasn't so sure of that. For the earlier years it was always the same small group of us that did the talking. Of course, now only six of us were actually in the class, and the conversations rarely stopped, so maybe she did have a point. Or maybe we were just comfortable enough with each other by now.

"Well, we know she was in some sort of institution. I'll be honest, I skimmed the bit with the specifics. And he just sort of fell for her and took her away from all of that. It's a bit off, if you ask me," he argued. I nodded a bit in agreement with the whole relationship between Dick and Nicole seeming a bit off, but I had no further comment.

"It seems you are agreeing with Susan, then," Professor Burbage said. "If he really just took her away and became a mix of physician and husband then wouldn't it be a bit liberating to be able to get away from that and live how she wants?"

"I guess," Justin admitted. He looked rather glum as he did. "But something about their relationship just seems off. I just don't think she ever has a clear idea of what's going on."

"Indeed. Would anyone else like to chime in on this topic?" Professor Burbage gazed around the room. I shrugged and just started talking. I have to admit, I enjoy the informality of the class. I couldn't imagine any of the other professors just having an open forum classroom. Well, maybe Flitwick, but other than that.

"It is a bit odd. Still, when she finally breaks the news to him, her first reaction is that she wants to tell him how happy she is about it. That could show that she cares for him still and isn't particularly sure of her emotions."

"Maybe," Susan responded. "But she was married to him for a long time. It's not like those emotions would completely go away."

"You're probably right," I admitted. "But if it was so liberating, at least to me, that would imply that she didn't quite want to be around him as much. And the only line we get from the narrator is that she thought of him immediately. And then that she keeps looking for him after the fact."

"Part of that could just as easily be that she she's simply nicer and more caring than he is," Terry Boot chimed in. He'd been unusually quiet about this book so far.

"Maybe," Hannah Abbott responded. "But I have to agree a bit with both Daphne and Justin. I'm not sure Nicole is ever 'all there' enough to really realize what's going on around her. It's almost like she just wants to have a fling, but thinks all relationships have to be marriages."

"That may be going a bit far," Professor Burbage added.

"Yea," Hannah admitted. "But I always just got the feeling that she never quite knew what was going on around her. Of course, at times it just seems like she doesn't care enough to pay attention, but I felt there was more to it than that."

"Well, I think we have established that Nicole is very confused about what's going on. Now if that's the case, couldn't one argue that she was simply being taken advantage of the entire time? So wouldn't making her own decision be getting away from that?" Professor Burbage asked.

"I think so," I responded. "But at the same time she seems to really just be clueless to everything going on around her. It's like she's clueless. And weak."

"Yes," Professor Burbage said. "But why did Dick decide to be her doctor?"

"Because of her fortune," Justin said.

"The cynical answer, yes," Professor Burbage stated. "And while it's a likely case. As it's clear Dick lives off of Nicole's fortune, but why is it stated that he marries her?"

"He thinks it will cure her. She had that weird relationship with her father," Susan blushed. I vaguely remembered the rather creepy incest comments during those flashback scenes.

"Such a dumb theory," I scoffed.

"Now now, Daphne," Professor Burbage chastised me. "But Susan is right. Nicole's illness switches from a focus on her father, to a focus on Dick. She becomes overly infatuated with him and he thinks that by giving in to her illusions she'll lose the schizophrenia. Medically, it's probably not a proper solution. But that's at least the logic for it in the book."

"So how is that relevant?" Terry asked.

"It goes back to what Daphne said. About her being weak," Professor Burbage said. She let silence fill the room. I thought about it for a moment. But I still wasn't sure where she was going with this. I hadn't been that much of a fan of the book, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try to figure out her riddle.

"She's not that weak, in the end," Hannah said quietly. Most of the class turned to look at her.

"Explain," Professor Burbage said and I realized Hannah had to be on the right track. I thought about it for a moment, but none of my answers were worth repeating in public, I assure you.

"Well, she's the one making decisions by the end of the novel. She decides to have that affair, she decides to leave Dick, and she decides to at least attempt to keep track of him after. But at the same time, Dick falls apart. He becomes an alcoholic, and he can never keep his life in order judging from the last few pages of the book. So in the end really she's strong and he's weak, I guess," Hannah extrapolated. Professor Burbage just nodded as Justin continued the point.

"And with the incident with her father, you may be able to argue that he likely lost it after his wife died, and took his strength from becoming Nicole's lover," Justin blushed as he spoke. I blinked a little bit, the theory that Professor Burbage was trying to get at started to make sense a bit more in my head. "And then there's that Peterson guy. He winds up dead in that girls bed and that could ruin her as well, but they get rid of the body. So destroying him keeps Rosemary, or whatever he name was, strong." Professor Burbage just nodded. The class fell silent again, all of us taking the time to digest the theory.

"But that doesn't counter the fact that Nicole is just nuts," Terry said. I paused a bit and thought about that for a moment. Mostly I thought about the end of the novel and how the positions changed so quickly.

"Parasites," I said under my breath.

"What was that, Daphne?" Professor Burbage asked. I saw Susan blink a bit and could tell she was getting to the same page that I was on.

"They're all parasites," I said. "Everyone becomes stronger by destroying someone else. In the end she's not as weak as she seems. Instead she's the one actually making the decisions," my voice trailed off as I wasn't particularly sure where I was heading with that comment. But I didn't have to finish the thought.

"So that's the point?" Terry asked. Professor Burbage just looked at him, waiting for him to expand. "That to gain any type of strength or well-being you have to destroy something? That doesn't seem like a particularly good message."

"It is not, is it?" Professor Burbage smiled. "But that brings us to our main point. What does it say about our Muggle counterparts? Why would Fitzgerald choose to make such a point?"

"But it doesn't matter," Justin tried to argue. "The premise doesn't work. People don't get stronger from others."

"That's not true," I said quietly. "Medically it happens all the time, really. Transplants, for example, could be considered taking strength from another person. And healers are taught spells that siphon life from one to another." My mom had actually recently written a paper on possible 'dark' spells that could be used in reverse to heal patients. It hadn't gone over particularly well. And she hadn't done enough research to actually show anything more than theory. But it was a very interesting concept. At least I thought so.

"And I don't know about you guys, but I always feel better when I'm around my friends," Hannah said. "But I don't think they feel weaker because of me." Most of the class laughed a bit as the castle bells signaled our time in Muggle Studies had come to an end.

"Hopefully not," Professor Burbage smiled at Hannah. "Alright, come ready to discuss what that theme could possibly say about both Muggle and Magical culture, then and now, on Friday. Book Club is tonight, too, for all of you that are interested. We're going to discuss Muggle fairy tales and the imaginary view Muggles have of magical society."

I gathered up my books and left the classroom. A quick gaze outside showed the sun was already setting. That was really the one thing I disliked about Muggle Studies. But when your biggest complaint is the time-slot of the class, I guess you shouldn't really be complaining.

I debated if I would be going to Book Club that night. Professor Burbage had it every Wednesday. I went to most of them, but not all. Usually I was more interested when we read a new novel, as opposed to a short story packet. Typically there were five to ten students that showed up. She offered extra credit for coming. But I probably wasn't going to need that, anyway. I'd probably use the time after dinner to get a good start on either my Transfiguration or Defense homework. Either seemed to be a good idea.

Either way I wandered into the Great Hall about the same time as the rest of my housemates. I wandered over to our long table and sat between Tracy and Pansy. Draco sat the other side of Pansy a few moments later. Theodore joined them next. He was chatting animatedly about something, likely their Charms class, but Draco didn't really appear to be paying attention.

I couldn't help but notice that he looked a bit more ragged than usual. He had bags under his eyes and I got the rather distinct impression that he really didn't feel like talking to Theodore about charms, or even being at dinner. Once he served himself he just stared at his food. It took Pansy chiding him to actually get him to shovel some turkey and potatoes into his mouth. And he really didn't look like he was enjoying it.

A few moments later Vincent and Gregory sat down opposite of him. I saw him wave Teddy off and say something to his cronies, but I couldn't hear his words over the noise in the hall. I didn't particularly care either, I was too preoccupied with both shoveling some turkey onto my plate, and wondering just what classes Vincent and Gregory had conned their way into to have a full schedule. Of course, I probably shouldn't be that mean.

I slowly ate my food, debating to myself whether or not I felt like tackling Professor Snape's homework, or McGonagall. Both promised to take pretty much a full night. Thankfully, they weren't due until Friday, and I didn't have anything that was due tomorrow. Thankfully, my decision was made before me.

"Want to double up on the Transfiguration homework?" Tracey asked. I looked up at her for a moment. She too, like Malfoy, looked a bit worn out. Perhaps we were all a tad more ragged than we were used to.

"Yea sure," I responded, knowing full well that by working with her we'd cut at least an hour, perhaps two, out of the time the assignment would take. Tracey and I did work well together in classes and on homework, which was interesting as she was probably my least favorite of my roommates. Of course, I wouldn't say that wasn't because of how she never seemed to eat, or gain weight. Really, we just never really meshed. We disagreed on everything pretty much out of principle. But where grades were concerned, that didn't particularly matter anymore. I paused for a moment to take a bite of turkey.

"Awesome," Tracey said with a sigh. She looked as relieved as I felt.

"You want the theory or the practical?" I asked. McGonagall always divided her assignments up the same way. The first half of our papers were about the magical theories behind the spells, culminating in what they should do and why. Included in that we had to discuss exactly what the spell did, why it did it, and how it should be both used and not used.

Then, after writing what felt like a dissertation on that, we'd have to write exactly how to use the spell. Included in that McGonagall expected exact descriptions of the wand motions required and pronunciations. She also expected examples of proper ways to use it, and improper ways. As well as some of the consequences of using it poorly. Needless to say, it was a lot of work. And it was probably the reason I found the class so annoying. All the work mirrored the lectures so much that it felt like you were back in the class, doing everything all over again.

The most annoying part is, in theory, bad pun intended, all of that information should have been readily available in the text. But it wasn't. Magical texts were notoriously bad at actually explaining consequences and theory. Instead there were literally a manual of how to, without expanding upon the why. So the theory behind the spells was something we had to think of on the spot, using the magical laws we were taught in our first year.

Part of me was fascinated by all of the research that was involved in every little thing we had to do for McGonagall. That same part of me thought it would be very interesting to actually look into the spells I used more commonly and explore what made them work. But I was usually too busy with schoolwork, or relaxing after schoolwork, to put much more thought into advanced magical theory.

Still, the short of it was that the deputy Headmistress made sure we not only knew the how to of magic, but that we fully understood the why as well. I wish I could argue that it was a stupid waste of time like many other students tried to do. But, because of my parents chosen profession, I knew better. For example, a spell meant for mending clothing and a spell meant for suturing a wound weren't actually that far apart. Not understanding them, though, and using them incorrectly, could have serious consequences.

"I did the theory last time!" Tracey whined. I frowned. She was correct. It was the part I'd wanted to avoid, as it would take the longest. But at least she'd owe me.

"Alright, I'll do it this time, then," I responded much to her delight. She went back to picky at the leafy green things that constituted her dinner. I went back to my turkey, about as happy with my food choice as she was with her homework luck. Oh well, at the very least I had a legitimate excuse to miss Book Club. Professor Burbage never faulted you for getting your homework done. Of course, Professor Burbage never really faulted you for anything.

I did sit around once I'd finished eating. Most students used the time to socialize with friends outside of their house, or attempt to smuggle food back to the common rooms. I took my Muggle Studies stuff to my dormitory and deposited it onto my bed. My Transfiguration book was near my pillow, where I'd left it a few hours ago when I switched my books around. I grabbed some parchment and a quill before heading back to the common room.

I relaxed on a couch in the corner near the fire and shivered a tad as I gazed up at the skulls above it for a moment. You really did get used to the morbid decorations after a while. It reminded me of a Muggle Halloween party, really, except replace all the black and orange with green and silver. It scared most first years, regardless.

Our common room was also always cold. I'm not sure why, or how, but even next to the roaring fireplace there was always still a chill in the air. It was something you got used to as well. Often before the skulls. But it would still catch you off guard on occasion. It didn't help that no form of warming charm or expanding of the fire actually increased the warmth in the room. A few years ago some seventh years tried to figure out just what kept the common room so cold, but they'd failed. The best anyone could assume was simply that some incredibly powerful enchantment kept the temperature level. I always brought extra blankets with me to school.

Anyway, I folded my legs underneath me and started to scribble down my homework. I paused only to page through my text to make sure I was getting all the information correct as I jotted it down.

Most of my housemates started filtering in a few moments later. I noticed Draco went straight up to his room, with Pansy in tow. I couldn't help but be rather glad of the enchantment that kept him out of our dormitories. Listening to her talk about him was more than I wanted to be privy to.

Tracey came in a few moments later. She also went up to our dormitory before returning with her transfiguration text and some parchment as well. She looked at what page I was on as she sat on the opposite end of the couch from me and flipped to it as well before starting on her section of the homework. We worked in silence, the only noise emanating from our small corner of the common room coming from the scratching of our quills.

At least until Astoria came in giggling a few minutes later. She looked around, breaking away from her friends and walking over to me. She plopped down between the two of us.

"Hey Daph, can you help me with my Charms homework?" she asked sweetly. I looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. She really just didn't pay attention to all the times my parents yelled at me about my grades, did she?

"I'm shit at charms," I responded. "And I'm busy." I kept scribbling at the parchment. The sentences slowly filling up the paper. Far too slowly for my tastes.

"I know," Astoria sighed. "But I wasn't paying attention and I don't get it and it's due tomorrow!" I knew it would be easier to just appease her, but I wasn't at a point where I could simply stop and help her. So I didn't.

"And why weren't you paying attention?" I asked.

"Gryffindor quidditch tryouts," Astoria said. I blinked a bit. To the best of my knowledge those had been at some point during the last weekend. But I hadn't been paying that close of attention myself. All I know is that Urquhart was planning on tryouts this weekend. He'd advised prospective players to 'scout' the Gryffindor team last weekend. We were all a bit surprised that Malfoy hadn't gotten the Captain's badge. Well, all of us except Draco, who didn't seem to care one way or the other.

"Excuse me?" I asked. Just to make sure I'd heard her right.

"Well we spent the entire class period talking about which Gryffindor player had looked better on his broom," Astoria admitted with a slight smile. I rolled my eyes, but at least I could respect the reasoning.

"And the consensus was?" I asked, flipping through a few pages in my text and then scribbling down another couple of sentences.

"Well they have some new keeper that's fairly good looking. Blonde and big. Kind of a hunk. I've seen him around before but I can't remember his name. Think it starts with a C. He looked really stupid later in the tryout. But still good to look at. A couple of their chaser tryouts were okay, too, but nothing too special. Few of the younger boys are nice," she prattled on. I didn't really listen, but it was likely in my best interest to just keep working on my homework while she didn't shut up.

"So new keeper was the best looking?" I asked after I figured was a suitable amount of time to let her ramble on for.

"No," she shook her head. "The best looking one by far was Harry Potter." That actually made me pause and look up at her. If I was thinking objectively, I'd admit he wasn't unattractive. But he'd been a bit short still last year, so unless he'd sprung up about a foot.

"Harry Potter?" I laughed a bit.

"He's taller," Astoria laughed in response, as if she'd pick out my first complaint. I just shrugged a bit and she laughed a tad. Short of running face first into him I hadn't really encountered him that much this year. Although I did run face first into his chest. So perhaps I just hadn't been paying attention to the growth spurts of non-Slytherins. "Although it's hard to tell when he's on the broom."

"If you insist. Tall and Dark your thing eh?" I teased. I was getting mercifully close to the end of what I needed for my half of the assignment.

"Dark?" Tracey laughed from next to her. "He's pasty, Daph, just has dark hair."

"Valid point," I sighed.

"Yes, but is it a valid enough point for me to get some Charms help?" Astoria asked. Tracey laughed a little bit as I shook my head.

"Go get your stuff," she said. "I'm done and Daphne will have to copy this before she'll let me copy hers." Astoria smiled brightly and ran off to collect her books.

"You shouldn't encourage her," I said quietly. Tracey shrugged.

"She had a decent enough reason. And I won't help her next time. This'll just be better than reading Arithmancy until you're finished with the theory."

"Probably," I affirmed as Astoria returned moments later. I didn't pay attention as Tracey helped her through her work. Although, if I thought about it, I could have probably used some of the same help. I ignored Tracey's lecture, though, figuring that the sooner I finished my theory, I could either sleep, read any of the countless pages I needed to finish for History of Magic or Muggle Studies.

I stifled a yawn as I moved onto the last little bit of theory. It seemed a tad too early to be as exhausted as I was, but the assignment had taken well over an hour. In fact, it was moving closer to two as I finished up.

A few moments later I finally scribbled the last bit I'd need on theory. I noticed that Tracey was still going over stuff with my sister so I simply grabbed up her parchment and started to copy down what she'd written about the practical applications and what not. I didn't copy her word-for-word, of course, because that's silly and likely to result in a lower grade for the both of us. I even changed the order in which she wrote the stuff down. I know, super clever of me.

When I finished plagiarizing her work I read it over once more. It wasn't my best bit of Transfiguration homework but I thought it would at least yield an E. It wasn't O work, but, it was certainly better than the last paper, or so I thought, and that had gotten an A.

"Done, Tracey," I said after I finished rereading it. She looked up from helping Astoria and nodded a tad, taking the parchment from me.

"Awesome," she said, reading my portion of the work before copying it down herself. I leaned back on the couch and glanced around the common room. It was mostly subdued that night. Draco and Pansy were still in the boys' dormitory. Millicent sat in a nearby chair reading a copy of the sixth year potions book. Blaise wasn't too far away from her, talking to some fifth years about Professor Slughorn. Not being in Potions I hadn't really had much of an occasion to meet him. But I did think his little parties sounded like they could have been fun.

Speaking of those, I was a little miffed that I hadn't been invited. My parents had spoken of him before. Although, the more I thought about their comments, the more I realized that they'd typically been made in jest. I did know that Mom had treated Slughorn for something or other a couple years back. Potions burns maybe? I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention when my parents had talked about it.

Anyway, I continued glancing around the common room. A couple of third year boys were playing chess in a corner. A couple of second year girls were playing Gobstones in another corner. I had to admit, I missed not being able to play fun games in the common room after classes. The homework had to let up eventually, right?

I saw Theodore sitting in a chair on the other side of the common room. He appeared to be working on the Herbology project that was due tomorrow. But he looked up from the text and smiled at me when he noticed I was looking at him. I smiled back, a purely reactionary response, and looked away quickly. I decided that staring at the green flames in the fireplace was likely a better way to spend the next few minutes.

"Thanks Daph," Tracey said moments later, so I turned my gaze back to her and took my parchment back from her.

"No problem," I said as I tucked the essay into the cover of my Transfiguration text. "You so have the theory next week, though." She just groaned.

"I know. Not looking forward to it," she responded and we both laughed. Astoria just looked at us for a few moments before Tracey went back to helping her with her homework. I'd have to thank her for that, in private, as she was paying much more attention to Astoria than I likely would have. At the very least my sister wouldn't write to our parents and complain about how I was no help. Last thing I needed was another Howler asking me if I really thought I was a good sister.

I laughed at the memory of that red envelope from two years ago. I'm still not sure exactly what Astoria had told our parents, but it had worked. I'd just gotten the 'we think you know' speech when I'd asked about it. Which really angered me. Because no, I don't know, if I had known, I wouldn't be asking. I interrupted my own fuming when I saw Theodore tuck his own Herbology homework and stand. He was looking at me, and moving toward me. So I did just about the only thing I could think of.

"Well I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed," I said to no one in particular.

"Night," Tracey responded, not even missing a beat while correcting some of Astoria's work.

"G'night sis," Astoria responded, while scribbling the correction down furiously. Neither of them was particularly paying attention, and I knew they both responded more out of habit than because they actually cared. I'd done the same thing more times than I'd care to count.

But it accomplished my goal. I didn't have to look at Theodore Nott. We hadn't really spoken much since school started up. Certainly there'd been no mention of his parents attempting to by mines loyalty with an outdated betrothal. I half wondered if Theodore even knew about the offer. I couldn't imagine why not, but Pureblood parents did tend to leave their children in the dark about most things.

Regardless, I knew I'd talk to him about it eventually. Well, maybe not about it. But we'd have to speak at some point. He really wasn't that bad of a boy. And, despite the fact that I liked to annoy him by using the diminutive of his name, and thought he was a little scrawny for me, and a tad arrogant, we had been pretty good friends.

Anyway, I moved to my dorm, putting my Transfiguration stuff away and pulling out the text we were using in Ancient Runes. I tossed it over my shoulder and onto the bed before digging into my trunk some more. When I found what I was looking for I sat on the edge of my bed and took off my shoes, then peeled off my socks. I tossed the socks into our laundry bin and started to remove the tie. Yea, we were supposed to wear stockings or tights, but sometimes I just didn't feel like it. I hadn't ever lost house points for it. The professors usually figured that as long as you were 'decent' the uniform was good enough.

I pulled off my sweater next, and also tossed it into the laundry bin. I rather liked not having to worry about my laundry at school. Anything that wound up in the communal bin in the dormitory showed up neatly folded on top of our trunks by lunch the next day. I unbuttoned my white shirt next and it joined the rest of my clothing. I replaced it with a green tank-top.

I wiggled out of my skirt last and balled it up before sending it off to be cleaned as well. I slid into a pair of green shorts that matched my tank top and then fell backwards onto my bed. Of course, I'd forgotten my book was there, and landed rather uncomfortably on it. I rectified that situation quickly enough, though, and eventually decided I should read a few pages of it.

Sadly for me runes weren't entertaining enough to keep me awake. So I eventually placed the book down on my bedside table and just closed my eyes. I tried not to think about Pansy and Draco, but I couldn't help but be a little jealous. I forced the thoughts from my mind. But it didn't help. I just started thinking about boys. Mostly they were holding me, or kissing me, or touching me. It was pleasant. I let my hands wander a little bit before I finally fell asleep.

Morning came too quickly. I crawled out of bed too slowly, ignoring the alarm that was enchanted into our dormitory. We never got to sleep past eight on the weekdays. Weekends, though, they let us sleep as late as we liked. Tracey and Millicent were crawling out of their beds about as quickly as I was crawling out of mine. Pansy wasn't in the dorm.

I was the first to make it into our communal bathroom and I picked out a shower stall. The water was nice and warm, but I showered a tad more quickly than I normally would. I was drying off, and brushing my teeth well before my dorm mates were out of their shower. I applied a little bit of blush and a little mascara before moving back into our dorm. I plucked out fresh clothing and redressed in my uniform. I picked a skirt again. Technically, we were supposed to only wear skirts, but the professors didn't ever comment if a girl wore pants. I preferred skirts though. I decided on green tights today too. Again, they were supposed to be grey or black, but it was becoming vogue to wear your house colors. And green made me think of plants, which fit with the fact that my first class was Herbology.

When I finished dressing I grabbed my wand and used it to straighten and dry my hair just a little bit, letting it fall down my back when I finished. I paused for a moment then grabbed a ponytail and pulled it back, figuring it shouldn't be in the way while I was in the greenhouse. I grabbed my Herbology book out of my trunk about the same time that Millicent returned to dress. I smiled at her before heading down to the great hall for breakfast.

I sat at the Slytherin table and paged through the Herbology book while I took some toast and eggs. I ignored the pumpkin juice and settled on a breakfast tea instead, sipping it carefully and reviewing the material for class. Normally I wouldn't put that much effort into it, but Herbology was probably my weakest class, and I'd done the reading about a week ago, so it couldn't hurt to refresh a bit. Although, Sprout didn't typically quiz us during classes. Herbology was more practical than that.

My friends wandered in at intermittent intervals while I read and munched down the toast. They all looked about as tired as I felt. Pansy was resting her head on Draco's shoulder, leaning into his neck and kissing it softly. I looked away from that and finished my toast. After a few more minutes a couple of us got up and walked down toward the greenhouses.

We were wandering toward the Greenhouse we'd spent more of the year in when Sprout wandered past.

"Not today!" she said, far too cheerfully for my taste. "We're moving up!" She led us toward the only other greenhouse we'd yet to enter in our time at Hogwarts. It was a bit bigger than the last ones. I vaguely remembered a seventh year referring to it as Sprout's House of Horrors a few years ago. I was pretty much terrified.

We filtered in silently, and judging from the pale expressions on everyone's face, they were all as terrified as me. Well, everyone except for Longbottom who was prattling on about flesh-eating plants. I'm just going to go right ahead and admit that that didn't make me feel better. At all. Like seriously? Who's excited about entering a small building with flesh-eating plants?

We pooled together in our typical groups. I suppose herds would probably be a better term. Tracey, Pansy and I found a table near the back of the greenhouse. Personally, I wasn't sure that was a particularly good idea. I'd have much better been right up near the front. By the door. To run away.

We stared at the innocent lump of wood on the table. It had a bunch of strange branches shooting out every which way, but other than that just looked like a piece of lumber. Pansy reached out toward it, but Tracey took her hand and lowered it, knowing it was better to wait for instruction than to simply touch things in Herbology.

"Well today class," Sprout smiled, almost fiendishly, "We're going to start working with the Snargaluff plant. These plants, amongst others, were mentioned in the last chapter of your reading. And they will be a project for the rest of the semester, at the very least. You will feed them, and that will extract the pods from them in a week or two. The plants will be about twice the size when the pod is ready for extraction. After that you will extract the pods and use the contents for your next project. The leftovers will be used for upper level potions classes, so please make sure to extract as much as possible from each pod." She paused and looked around the class.

"These are the most dangerous plants you have worked with so far. Make sure you wear your gloves at all time. Goggles are advised, as always." We all moved a bit toward our plants as Sprout finished speaking. I was pulling my dragonhide gloves on and nibbling a bit on my bottom lip. Attractive, I know.

"Wait wait wait!" Sprout announced a few moments later as her students were moving in, swarming their plants. "Groups of two for these projects. Too easy in a larger group!" Students flocked to each other.

I turned to the side and noticed that Pansy and Tracey had already grouped up. The only other two Slytherins in the class, Draco and Theodore had as well. They were looking disdainfully at the plant. I gazed around the greenhouse. Granger and Weasley were partnered up around one of the plants. Weasley looked rather relieved. I noticed Hannah Abbott slid up next to Neville Longbottom and smiled up at him. Longbottom looked flustered, but thrilled, and I couldn't help but think that would have been a good idea. Getting through Herbology on a smile and some kind words would have been nice.

I looked around and noticed that just about every other student in the class had found a partner. I blinked a bit before I heard Sprout's voice.

"Potter, Greengrass, hurry up!" I turned to see a sheepish looking Harry Potter smile at me. I groaned, but figured I didn't have a particular choice in the matter. I picked up my books and wandered over toward the table he'd picked out. Right between our groups of friends. It had a particularly large log on it and I gulped a tad. I knew that Tracey and Pansy were watching me as I placed my books down next to his.

"You any good at Herbology?" I asked. He just laughed.

"No," He said, quietly. "Better than Ron, I suppose. But not as good as Hermione. How about you?"

"Pretty terrible," I admitted quietly. "Typically Tracey just bosses Pansy and I around and eventually the assignment gets finished."

"Not far off of what Hermione does with Ron and I," He laughed quietly. I just nodded a bit and looked toward the plant.

"So uh, how do we feed it?" I asked, leaning over the lump of wood and examining it carefully.

"No idea," Harry admitted. He pulled off one of his gloves and opened the index of the text. After a few moments he flipped to a page labeled with the plant in questions. I peered over his shoulder a bit, looking at the diagrams in the book.

"So we have to tie the branches in a knot to get the middle part to open up?" I asked.

"Looks that way," he said, gazing down at the stump. He dog-eared a page of the book before reaching for his other glove.

"Doesn't seem that hard," I said and reached out for the plant, grabbing two of the branches. It fought me, rather hard, but I managed to get them near each other. I was going to do something cute, like tie them in a bow or something. But hubris won as I felt something slip into my hair. It wrapped around my ponytail, pulling it out, and pulling on my hair. I yelped, rather loudly and tried to back away. But it just pulled my head down a bit and I yelped more. I didn't know what to do. I started freaking out as it pushed me toward it. But then, it simply let go.

Or so I thought. I stood up immediately, taking a few steps away from it and gasping a bit. I looked at Potter and realized that it hadn't let go. He put down the knife he'd used to cut it off. I stared at him for a moment and wondered how long it had taken him to react. In a reverse situation I wondered if I'd have even been able to react. Granted, my housemates would have probably found it hilarious.

"It's okay," he said carefully. I nodded a bit. "You're good. That surprised me, too." I just nodded a bit. He took a step toward me and reached up, placing his fingers on the branch in my hair and rather gently pulling it out. He tossed it down onto the table and looked back at the Snargaluff. I took a moment to recover.

"The book had mentioned spiny tentacle arms," I said. "I thought they'd be more visible."

"Me too," he said. "I barely even noticed the one sneaking around the back of it until it had you. Sorry about that." He looked away when he spoke and I could actually sense the sincerity in his words.

"It's okay," I said carefully. I took a moment to run my hands through my hair. I picked out a few spiny remnants of Snargaluff and slipped my hair behind my ears. "Did we at least accomplish anything?" I asked. I should have probably looked for my hair tie on the ground, but didn't. I noticed two of the vines were still tied in the loose knot that I'd started. Harry moved over to the plant and finished the knot. It emitted a rather strange noise and trembled a bit. The branches that were tied together immediately started fighting each other. I didn't suspect they'd stay that way for long.

"I think I'm going to need some help here, Daphne," Potter said quietly. I realized I was still just standing there, watching. I felt like an idiot for still being afraid of the thing so I stepped forward and helped. I grabbed a few more branches, watching out of the corner of my eye for anything that came remotely near me. Potter was better at swatting the branches away than I was. Must have been the seeker reflexes.

Eventually, after we each tied about five of the branches into knots the log changed. It opened a bit, with a strange cracking wooden noise as it did. I didn't like it. Potter hadn't noticed, he was too busy combating two other branches. I leaned over toward it.

"Potter, I think we're good," I said, leaning over toward the dark maw and wondering just exactly what we were supposed to feed it. The book hadn't gone into much detail in that part.

"What?" He asked, turning and leaning toward me. His forehead went straight into my nose with another loud cracking noise. Coincidently, I didn't like that one either.

"Fuck Potter!" I yelled. I was rather surprised to not immediately hear Sprout taking fifteen points from Slytherin for my emotional outburst, but she must have been busy. My hands flew to my face and I noticed blood start to cover them almost immediately. I applied pressure and gasped.

"Sorry sorry sorry!" Potter stammered, his eyes wide, he looked very alarmed and concerned. I just cursed again under my breath and looked around. Sprout was too occupied with Longbottom and Abbott, who apparently had worked out the secret to feeding the plants. And done so in fairly record time. None of the other students appeared to have many of the branches tied together yet.

"Heal it already!" I gasped. He nodded and pulled out his wand, then looked at me, looking a little confused.

"I don't know how," He said. I stared at him for a moment. I wanted to yell and scream but deep down I knew they didn't really teach restorative spells until later in the Hogwarts career. The only reason I knew any was the direct result of my parents. I moved my hands away from my nose and looked at him and spoke as calmly as I could.

"Point your wand at it, say Sanare and move your wand in a full circle, counter clockwise," I said.

"Sanare," he responded, mimicking the movements. My face felt warmer for a moment and I felt, and heard, my nose crack back into place. It was a better sensation than breaking it, but not by much. I gasped and thought to myself that I should have just stuck with five classes. And that this one certainly couldn't get much worse.

"Thanks," I said quietly. I took out my own wand and cleaned my hands, and then my face. I didn't appear to get any blood on my uniform, but I looked at him, gesturing to myself. He blushed a bit.

"You got it all. Really I am sorry, Daphne, I didn't mean to," he stammered a bit. I just shook my head, not really feeling like listening to him apologizing more. It had been an accident after all. And pretty much I just wanted to feed the damn plant and leave, as I noticed Longbottom and Abbott had been allowed to do.

"Yea yea," I said, raising a hand up and shaking my head. "Let's just feed this damn thing and be done with it. What do they eat?"

"Flesh?" he responded, the slightest hint of a question in his voice. Just enough for me to know he was joking, and that he didn't really know. But that was on the cover of the textbook.

"Well I need all mine," I responded snottily and gestured for him to put his arm in the hole or something. He laughed a bit. I noticed that the branches were getting close to coming undone. "And quickly, doesn't look like we have much time."

"Well Sprout has a bunch of dead rats," He said, gesturing to the box where they were. I nodded a bit and walked over to the box, plucking one out carefully by the tail, holding my breath while I walked back to the plant. I should have made him do this part, the dead rats smelled awful, and I could feel my breakfast turning over in my stomach.

"What do I do then?" I asked, looking at him. He shrugged.

"Neville just dropped it in," he commented. I stared at the rat, and then at the plant.

"And the thing ate it?" I asked, nothing about that sounded appealing.

"I think so," He said. I nodded and tossed the rat into the opening. It closed, almost immediately and I couldn't help but wonder how, at any point, we were going to harvest something out of the plants. The branches immediately unknotted and the Snargaluff became still again.

"Well that wasn't so bad," I sighed. I looked around and noticed that most of the class was still working on the branches. Sprout seemed to notice we finished and wandered over to us.

"Go it a rat?" she asked. I nodded.

"We did," Harry said.

"Fantastic. Five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for being second," she said. "Now's the best part. It's very rare that a magical plant will actually eat in front of a group of humans!" I didn't think that sounded as exciting as Professor Sprout did.

"How do they eat?" I asked, staring at the plant.

"The pus that becomes the pod you'll be extracting soon wraps around the flesh and siphons the nutrients it needs out of it, before expelling everything it doesn't need," Sprout explained slowly. I tilted my head to the side and noticed that there was a pretty horrid smell coming out from the plant. Professor Sprout moved over toward another group of students, who likely were at the same point as Potter and I. The smell intensified. It was sort of a mix of sulfur and burning hair. I gagged a little, but Potter didn't seem fazed. I heard Sprout talking and the smell got even worse. More students must have been finishing up. I struggled a tad for air and debated bubble-head charming myself, or trying to cast a freshening spell.

But the smell was already in the air, so the bubble-head wouldn't have done any good. So I reached for my wand, concentrating on vanilla, thinking that would be much better than the current stench. But then it happened.

There was another loud cracking noise. Followed by a few more from throughout the greenhouse. I looked at the log on the table in front of us. A thick red liquid was pooling out of it, all over the table. I gagged a bit more. And I felt my stomach turn. And I knew it was pretty much over then.

I fell to my knees next to the table, hoping to get away from the sight. My hair fell around my face and I groaned, knowing I should have found the tie and put it back into a ponytail. I gagged once more. Thankfully Potter caught on. At least I assume he did, as someone moved my hair from my face and held it as I threw up all over the greenhouse floor.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! On a side note, I'm still looking for a couple of people interested in Betaing this and the other two stories I'm working on (Dark in Peace, Masque of Chicago) so PM me if you're interested. That's typically the best way to contact me. I respond to pretty much all of them. I'm also still interested in covers for stories since I can post them. If you're interested in that, let me know as well.

Again thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and am making no profit.

**Acknowledgments:** alpha-alieria, bird875, and DwellerMan-Underground for the beta work on this chapter. I now have three people to blame for any mistake.

Chapter 5

"Seriously, Potter, I'm fine," I argued as he walked next to me. Sprout ordered him to make sure I got to the hospital wing after I'd made a spectacle of myself in the greenhouse. He'd obeyed the professor immediately by grabbing my books up off our table and leading me out of the greenhouse.

"I know," he responded, which just annoyed me a bit more. I crossed my arms and glared at him. He was walking slowly, his hands in his pockets. His black hair was a complete mess and there were still remnants of plant strewn about in it. His glasses looked slightly askew, but they always looked slightly askew. Perhaps that was simply how he liked them.

"Then why are you making me go to the hospital wing?" I asked as snottily as I could. He just shrugged his shoulders a bit.

"Professor Sprout said to escort you there, so I'm escorting you there," he commented. He was gazing around, paying more attention to the paintings hanging on the walls than he was to any sort of conversation I was attempting to hold.

"So? You lose points for ignoring the professors all the time!" I whined. He turned and looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Only from Snape, really," He commented as we kept walking. We were annoyingly close to the hospital wing, so I knew I had to come up with a better argument. I seriously felt fine. The plants were just disgusting.

"Well you're out after hours all the time!" I argued. At least that was the rumor. I mean, you wind up in the hospital wing at the end of every year and see what happens. Draco often claimed to know what Potter did to wind up in the hospital wing. Mostly, I thought he was a little too obsessed with the kid.

"I am?" Harry laughed a little bit. "News to me. Where do you get this information?"

"Well, you know, rumors," I responded quietly. I didn't really appreciate being laughed at. But despite my accusing him, and my general bitchiness, he was still just smiling as he walked. I looked at him curiously but didn't answer his question. After a few minutes he spoke up again.

"What, Daphne?" he asked, staring at me. "Do I have a flesh-eating plant stuck in my teeth or something?" I realize he must have noticed I was staring.

"No, sorry," I said carefully. "Well actually, some still in your hair, but…" He blinked a bit and just reached up to run his hand through his hair. The couple of little twigs that were lodged into his hair rustled out.

"Stupid plant," he said quietly. But then we were outside of the hospital wing. And he opened the door. And he was holding it open for me. I frowned but walked in. He stepped in after me and stepped in front of me because I froze in the doorway. Silly, I know, as it really didn't matter. I knew there'd be nothing more than a routine examination, and that it certainly wouldn't take any time whatsoever to accomplish that.

"Mr. Potter?" Pomfrey asked as she walked out into the main room of the hospital wing. She had a clipboard and a quill and if I had to guess, I'd have assumed she was doing some type of inventory. "How did you manage to hurt yourself this time?" Potter just laughed. I looked at the nurse, and then at him.

"Amazingly enough I'm okay," he smiled. "Professor Sprout asked me to make sure Daphne actually made it down here."

"Why's that?" Pomfrey asked. She looked at Harry, curiously. She put down her clipboard and quill and took out her wand, taking a moment to cast a brief diagnostic on him. I got the impression she couldn't quite believe that he wasn't critically injured. It actually made me wonder just what Potter got up to and how often he wound up hurting himself. I mean, I knew there would be the occasional quidditch injury. Those were unavoidable. But she looked at him like he was a regular.

Of course, I had just thought about how he spent the end of most terms in the hospital. I suppose that in and of itself is more than just about any other student in the school - even Blaise, despite the fact that he'd go down to the hospital with as little as a stomach ache.

"Well, we were in Herbology," Potter started. He let his voice trail off a bit and Pomfrey looked at me.

"And I threw up all over the floor when the stupid Snargaluff plant ate the rat and all the blood and goo came out," I admitted.

"I can see the remnants of those. Weak constitution?" Madame Pomfrey asked. She was still checking over Potter with her wand. She summoned the remaining branches out of his hair and continued her diagnostic.

"Not usually," I admitted. "I'm not particularly good around blood though. Never have been. Parents make fun of me for it."

"That's right, the healers," she said quietly, examining Potter's left shoulder. After a moment she commented. "What did you do to yourself over the summer?"

"Nothing," Potter said quietly, shaking his shoulder a bit. After a moment he admitted, "Quidditch collision while screwing around."

"Stupid," Pomfrey said. Potter just shrugged.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," he argued.

"When did it happen?" Pomfrey asked.

"About two weeks before school started," he said. I watched them talk. Pomfrey looked at him with an almost motherly expression. She sighed a bit and shook her head. It was rather interesting. I didn't have a whole lot of experience with the nurse. I was lucky enough to have entered puberty over the summer holidays. So I wasn't sure if she acted this way with everyone else. Of course, she was a professional, and I suspect the motherly affection worked quite well with most students. Especially when they were injured or sick.

"You should have come to me right away!" she argued.

"Well it didn't hurt when I came back to school!" he responded, laughing quietly. "Mrs. Weasley cast some spells on it after it happened. Nothing major. It's fine see," he said. He waved his arm around, demonstrating the full range of motion. I leaned out of the way of his arm, thankfully not getting hit in the face again. He winced a bit whenever his arm moved above his head.

"Sure," Pomfrey said skeptically, shaking her head and reaching out to stop him from his windmill impression. "There's not much I can do for it now. It is healing fine, but I could have sped it up a bit more had I seen it sooner. I bet it hurts quite a bit in the morning. Seeing as you've always slept on that side in your nights here." Pomfrey spoke clinically, but that didn't prevent Harry from blushing. I couldn't help but wonder how seriously he'd been injured in the past if she'd made a habit of checking up on him at night.

"Yea, it does," he admitted quietly, looking away from the nurse.

"I'll have the elves leave you a numbing draught for the next couple of nights. That should help significantly," the nurse said.

"Thanks," Harry responded quietly. "But I'm fine. Professor Sprout was more concerned about Daphne." He was being annoyingly nice. Perhaps he just didn't want the nurse focusing on his shoulder anymore and I was simply a diversionary tactic. That's something I'd do.

"Well I'll have a look," she said as she looked over at me. I gulped a bit but nodded. Pomfrey moved her wand about, casting some basic diagnostic spells I'd seen both my parents use hundreds of times.

"So, stomach problems in Herbology?" she asked, despite the fact that we'd already had this conversation.

"Not really. I'm fine," I replied, but simply moved closer to the nurse to make her diagnostics easier. "Just icky plants."

"I was never any good at Herbology," Madame Pomfrey said, casting a couple of more general spells on me. I recognized most of them, which actually amused me a fair amount. But I suppose I'd seen most of them before from either my mom or dad.

"Me either," I laughed, shaking my head a bit.

"Your mom was pretty awful at it too," Pomfrey commented idly. "She always used to complain of stomach cramps before going down to the greenhouses. Just wanted to get out of class, I'm sure," the nurse laughed. I shook my head. That certainly wasn't something I'd have expected from my mother.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I laughed. "That way I won't have to puke all over the floor."

"Indeed," Pomfrey said. "So stomach pains, nausea, fever?" she pressed a hand against my forehead as she asked. She'd already cast a temperature diagnostic, but I guess some habits die hard. "You're a little clammy."

"No, no, and not that I'm aware of," I said, shaking my head. "Really, I'm fine. It was just the smell and the blood."

"So you've said," Pomfrey commented. "But we'll just check on everything just in case. Your mother was also bad with blood."

"Really?" I asked. I had a really hard time picturing that. But then again, she so very rarely actually worked with patients. That was more Dad's forte. Mom spent more time on the theoretical aspect of healing magic, and often helping research spells. She only ever took a couple of shifts a week at St. Mungo's, mostly when filling in for someone else.

"Oh yes. You know how most prospective healers apprentice with me in their seventh year?" Pomfrey asked.

"Oh yea," I said. "It's when my parents fell for each other."

"They ever tell you that whole story?" Pomfrey asked. The results of her preliminary tests were writing themselves down on some parchment and the nurse was looking them over.

"Just that they were paired together on their shift here. And that, despite both being seventh year Ravenclaws, they didn't really know each other that well until they got to talking during downtime on the shift," I said. Astoria pestered them about it more than I ever had. I wasn't really much of a romantic.

"That's it?" Pomfrey said, shaking her head a bit.

"I never really asked," I admitted.

"It's a fairly good story. It even involves Potter's father here," Pomfrey said. I'd forgotten Potter was still there. It was probably awful of me but I really didn't care that much about what my parents did at school. Sure, some stories were nice to hear, but it seemed like Pomfrey was going to prattle on for a while about it. And I'd been hoping to duck back to the dungeons and start my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework.

I gazed a bit toward Potter, intending to make an annoyed comment that he was still around, and that I certainly didn't need much more of an escort, as we were already at the hospital wing. But when I looked at him my stomach sank. His eyes were wide, and he looked like he was hanging on her every word. I guess when you don't have the ability to listen to your parents reminisce, you start to look for any story you can find. It seemed mean to not just let Pomfrey tell it. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be about my parents, and not his.

"Well how'd it go?" I asked.

"It was their first day," Pomfrey started. "Your dad was doing some sort of inventory, I always have the seventh years start with that. Your mom thought it was boring, and he'd made some sort of comment that annoyed her so she decided not to help."

"Sounds like someone I know," I admitted grumpily. Of course it wasn't that hard to tell where I'd gotten that trait from anyway.

"Yes well, anyway, James Potter," she gestured to Harry as she said it. "Entered with his friend. I was off at a staff meeting, and your father was in the back making sure we had enough essence of dittany.

"Well anyway, they walk in and she goes to greet them. She notices that Harry's dad was holding his friend, Sirius Black, actually, up. Strange the acquaintances we make at school. Well she notices that Black's robes were shredded on the left side, and he's bleeding profusely. I think they must have been trying to mimic some spell they witnessed. Apparently they were practicing on fruit before Sirius managed to somehow get himself in James's way.

"Well anyway, your mom walks up to him. Pauses a few feet away and notices the wound. She called for your dad and then immediately ran to the waste basket and started hurling into it," Pomfrey laughed. I blushed a bit and laughed quietly. Harry just looked concerned.

"But they were okay?" Harry asked.

"Oh yea, Mr. Greengrass fixed them right up, used the essence of dittany he was inventorying. They were always getting in to some sort of trouble. They probably wound up here more than any two other students I've known. The excuses they came up with. I hope they really didn't suspect that I actually thought the small claw marks on their chests were quidditch injuries," Pomfrey explained. Harry laughed a little bit at that comment, shaking his head.

"How'd that help my parents though?" I asked.

"Well your father dismissed them. Which I had to scold him for when he provided the report. I never could get them to tell me how Black got injured. But after he dismissed them he cleaned up the leftover blood, cleaned up the vomit, and made her sit on the bed while he diagnosed her. I came back about halfway through that. I assure you, she complained far more than you had," Pomfrey said, finally finishing reading over her charts and shook her head a bit. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

"Well you know, I've learned that it's usually easier to just go along with it, that usually makes things quicker," I admitted with a little bit of a smile.

"Then why did you complain and drag your feet the entire way here?" Potter asked quietly. Pomfrey laughed at his words, I shook my head and glared at him.

"Because I'm fine!" I snapped. I realize it was a pretty lame argument. But it was the best I had. And I certainly didn't want anyone, much less Potter, to think I was whiney.

"Well maybe, but it would be quicker to just go and confirm that," Potter responded. He blushed a rather deep shade of scarlet and looked away. I actually felt a little bad for snapping at him, mostly because he really did have a point. I couldn't think of anything worth wasting breath on, though, so I just looked back at Madame Pomfrey. When I figured out what the last diagnostic she was casting was I just laughed.

"Really?" I asked, raising my eyebrows up.

"Often has similar morning results," Pomfrey said. "And girls your age tend to believe it can't happen to them, no matter what they do."

"What?" Potter asked, gazing at us carefully as Pomfrey kept her wand leveled on my stomach. I chose to ignore him.

"Well if I am its Jesus," I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Pomfrey smiled a bit at me. Harry let out a small 'oh' and looked away from me. It seemed like a strange reaction. I mean what had he thought about me before? Why would that make him look away? I decided it didn't matter and looked back at Pomfrey.

"What happened to your nose?" she asked next. I blinked but looked toward the mirror. Potter had healed it just fine. It looked fairly normal. But I suppose she saw it, or perhaps the left-over magic that he'd used to heal it, while doing her diagnostic.

"That was me," Harry said quietly. Pomfrey just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And you did?"

"Kind of head butted her in the face at the start of the lesson," Harry admitted. Pomfrey looked a little cross and I did something I never thought I'd actually do. I defended Potter.

"It was an accident. I was too busy looking at the insides of the plant and he just sort of turned right into me. He healed it," I blushed. Pomfrey looked at the two of us for the moment.

"You just had a terrible lesson, didn't you?" Pomfrey asked.

"Yes," I nodded emphatically.

"What did you heal it with?" the nurse asked, turning her gaze to Potter.

"I dunno," he admitted with a deeper blush.

"Sanare," I responded. "I told him how to do it."

"And he got it right on his first try? That's advanced magic."

"I guess," I shrugged. It was the first spell my parents had taught both me and Astoria when it came to medical things. Granted, I probably abused it by using it on like paper cuts and what not. Astoria did the same. Pomfrey just surveyed us for another moment before speaking.

"Well you're right. You're perfectly fine. I'd just suggest a lighter breakfast before Herbology. Perhaps even eating after class if you can pull it off. As Professor Sprout probably told you, you'll likely get used to the plants."

"She said something or other like that. I wasn't really paying attention at the time," I admitted.

"Understandable. Well you're free to go," Pomfrey said. "You too, Potter, but tell me if your shoulder gets any worse. Minerva would kill me if her seeker couldn't play for two years in a row."

"Cheaters," I scoffed under my breath, causing the two of them to laugh. Harry just shook his head.

"They did fine without me last year," he said modestly before we both walked toward the door. He opened it for me. I looked at him for a moment, with raised eyebrows, before walking through it.

"Thanks," I said quietly. He just nodded a bit. I noticed immediately that Granger and Weasley were walking toward the hospital wing. Weasley didn't seem that interested in being there, but Granger was dragging him in. I felt a little annoyed that none of my friends had bothered to check up on me.

"Harry!" Weasley yelled as they approached. They were blocking my most efficient way to the dungeons so I just debated the best way to weave through them without being annoying. Part of me wanted to just plow through the two lions, but I'm not sure I could have knocked Weasley off balance no matter how much effort I put into it.

"Hey Ron," Potter said quietly. But before the red-head could speak, Granger started up.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asked, looking rather concerned. Part of me couldn't help but wonder how they hadn't become an item. Of course she was holding Weasley's hand, and he didn't even appear to notice.

"Fine," he responded dryly. "My shoulder just felt funny after struggling with the plants. You know, the one I hurt falling at The Burrow? So I figured I should have Pomfrey check it out. I'm good to go." I blinked a bit. Why did he just lie to his best friends?

"Mom healed that," Weasley said bluntly, as if he couldn't imagine his mother's magic wasn't completely infallible. I managed to sidestep around him as Potter just shrugged off his friend's comment. I moved my way down the hall toward the dungeons, rather glad I had a free period when I heard Weasley speak again.

"I can't believe you had to work with a snake! That must have been terrible!" I paused. Part of me wanted to turn around and confront him about that, but a larger part of me decided just standing and listening were better options. He had to have known I was just a few feet behind him. No one can be that clueless. Of course it was Weasley.

"Hey now, we finished before you," Potter said cheekily. Weasley blinked a bit and Granger let out an annoyed sigh.

"Well Ronald was too busy trying to see if he could tie the branches into neat bows rather than actually trying to feed the plant."

"That's how the illustration was in the book!" Weasley argued.

"Yes but the text specifically said tight knots!" Granger countered. I just decided to keep walking. No part of me actually wanted to get more involved in the conversation.

"But the branches were tied in bows!" Weasley argued.

"We established that," Granger commented.

"Daphne," Potter said. I blinked and turned around, looking at Harry as he ignored the argument his two friends were getting into about Herbology. I wasn't sure what he could still want. But when I looked at him he was holding my bag. I'd forgotten he'd taken it with him from the Greenhouses. I had to admit I was actually rather relieved, because I'd have likely gone back to the dungeons, assumed I'd left it in Herbology and walked all the way back to the greenhouses, and then been very annoyed and confused.

Anyway, I slipped back behind Weasley, who was about to formulate an argument of some sort back at Granger, but he stopped and took a deep breath, looking around.

"Anyone else smell brownies?" he asked. I blinked a bit and inhaled but didn't smell anything. Which was really a shame as I could have gone for some brownies. Perhaps I shouldn't use shampoo scented with my favorite food additive.

"That is the worst excuse I've ever heard for ending an argument!" Granger ranted. I got the strangest feeling she wasn't particularly sure if she'd established her point with Weasley, and didn't want to let him off the hook that easily. Interestingly I recognized the tone she used. It wasn't far off of one I used with Astoria when I was particularly annoyed. Strange, as I always thought the two of them were into each other, and her holding his hand moments before had affirmed that a bit with me, but she was chastising him more like an annoyance than a prospective lover. Of course I was probably being too romantic. You know, in a trashy novel sense. Something I try to never do.

Anyway, I stood next to Potter and he handed me my books. Granger and Weasley were still bickering. But Weasley wasn't really paying attention to the argument. He was still looking around. Part of me wondered if he just expected a pan of freshly baked goodies to magically show up.

"That any good?" he asked. I noticed _A Farewell to Arms_ was still in my bag. It was next up on our reading list and I'd wanted to get a start on it had I had a few free minutes. That wasn't unusual for me. Typically if I had some free time toward the end of class I'd page through whatever Muggle Studies reading I needed to see if I could come up with anything to discuss in class. Or at the very least, get a few pages of the reading done.

"I don't know," I admitted. He just raised his eyebrows and looked at me. I sighed a little bit. "I'm only on like page twelve."

"Oh," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. But he smiled at me. I can honestly admit I wasn't sure how to react. My instinct said to say something snotty. But in all fairness to Potter, he'd been rather plesant. Admittedly in an annoying, overly protective sort of way. And he was smiling at me. And he had a rather nice smile, really. And I liked being smiled at. It made me feel special.

"Do you read?" Was all I could really come up with to say. Strange and rather unlike me.

"Not as much as he should!" Granger scolded and slid next to Harry. He just shrugged a bit.

"More at home then at school. There's not much else to do there. But the selection isn't particularly good. I do sneak off to the library on occasion," he said, smiling again. I looked at him. I'm sure my expression looked a bit curious. Who sneaks off to a library? Who has a problem with a kid going to a library?

Of course, as I raked my brain, I realized I didn't know exactly what his situation was. I mean obviously his parents were dead. I assumed he had some sort of relatives. But it was common knowledge he lived with Muggles. I tilted my head to the side and just shrugged a bit. Then I came up with the best response I could think of.

"Well, I'll let you know if it's any good since it looks like we're stuck with each other for a while," I said. But I smiled back. Which just made him smile a little more. His green eyes were shining and for just a moment I lost myself in them. That was so not me. If I was going to be charmed by someone's eyes, why the hell hadn't I fallen for Titus Button!

"That would be nice," he said. I just nodded a bit, dazedly. But it was Granger who spoke next.

"Yes. We should be getting back to the common room, though, to finish Professor Snape's assignment," she said, almost possessively. I was almost tempted to say I needed to complete the same assignment, but Potter just nodded as Granger started to pull him away. He gave me one last look and smile.

"See you in Herbology, Daphne," he said, before turning his attention back to his friends. I just stared after them for a moment. I felt warmer, and I'm not particularly sure why. Also, my heart was racing a bit. After he'd taken a few steps Potter looked over his shoulder. Looking back at me. He just smiled again, almost sheepishly and then said something to Weasley. I could only imagine what they were talking about, but it made Granger scoff rather loudly.

I waited until they turned out of the hallway before I started walking back to the dungeons. I really didn't want to keep thinking about Potter's eyes, but they stayed in the front of my mind.

It only took me a couple of minutes to make it back to the dungeons. I immediately went up to my dorm and found a fresh roll of parchment and my defense text. I figured if I could knock out Snape's assignment during the free period we had than I could either get a great deal of reading done this evening, for History or Muggle Studies, or perhaps even get a start of my Runes homework.

At least with Runes the projects usually took a few weeks, and we got a lot of in-class work time. Often you wouldn't need to do much outside of class, except study vocabulary. Apparently most runes were best worked on with some sort of supervision, at least in our age group. Later in the year we'd form up into a couple of study groups, but the start of the year was usually tolerable.

And hey, maybe McGonagall and Snape would decide they weren't feeling totally evil and not assign us any homework for the weekend! I actually laughed to myself as I thought that. But a girl can dream right? I'd settle for like fifty pages of reading in each class. That would be something easily banged out Saturday.

So yea, mostly I was hoping I wouldn't get anything additional in History or Runes this evening. Well, I knew I shouldn't. As History was only ever reading with an essay every couple of weeks. And since we'd just handed one in about a week ago, the Ghost wouldn't be assigning another for a while. So that would leave me with remarkably few responsibilities for Tuesday and Thursday of next week. Of course, I was far more concerned about Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Anyway, I wandered back down to the common room. It was mostly empty. Our free period was just before the lunch break. The seventh years were mostly in Transfiguration and the younger years were typically in their electives so it was pretty much just our year. It also looked like the entire contingent from Herbology had returned.

Sixth year was a bit strange with that. In the past, you were almost always in the same classes with your housemates. Now there was a little more differentiation in the schedules. Still, we found that we were typically off during the same periods. Personally, I was rather glad I wasn't the one who had to pick out Hogwarts schedules for all the years of students in the building. But at least whoever did it last seemed to have done so very well.

I flopped myself down on the couch, sticking my quill into my mouth in a rather un-ladylike manor as I found the pages I needed for the defense assignment. Of course, Professor Snape's homework was never quite like McGonagall's. Rather that discuss theory and focus on a specific spell he gave us more of a scavenger hunt style project.

This time, we had to find five spells which we have not covered in any of our previous five years of defense that could be used for debilitating an opponent. The only caveat with the spells was that they could not have any possible lethal ramifications. Of course, Terry Boot had commented that any spell could be lethal if like, shot into someone's ear or mouth, or if it rebounded and knocked a vase onto someone's head.

It probably goes without saying. But, Terry had detention tonight and Ravenclaw had fifteen points fewer.

Once we found the five spells we had to discuss exactly what they did, in very specific detail. Professor Snape was an incredibly hard grader. After we had to discuss the absolute best scenarios in which to use these spells. It was a fun aspect of the assignment, although no one I knew ever scored quite as many points as they'd like. I hovered mostly around Exceeds Expectations with the occasional Acceptable worked in.

I'd gotten one poor, but Professor Snape had let me redo the assignment for an Acceptable. He hadn't been quite as terrible as one would expect. Although that was probably mostly because he spent most of the time yelling at Potter for not doing non-verbal magic. I'd picked it up fairly quickly, but never quite seemed to pull it off as easily when the Professor was staring at me and waiting.

I found the first spell rather quickly. I probably took the easy way out by simply flipping to the back of the text and looking for the first non-lethal spell that it discussed. It was a curse that shattered bones in people's legs. Sounded really painful and I couldn't think of the 'best' situation in which to use it. So I wrote down some drivel about how if your life was threatened, you were unable to apparate, and needed to run away quickly. I thought it was good enough. But frankly I wasn't creative enough to hope for anything past an acceptable on this assignment.

I barely noticed when Theodore sat next to me on the couch. I'd been too busy paging through the book looking for a second spell. Now, I almost always sat at the same couch in the common room. I had since my second year. It was an easy one to work at, with a large table in front of it to make writing easier. I wasn't particularly annoying about it either. As I usually sat as far to the side as I could, leaving as much room as possible for anyone else to sit there. And people did, almost nightly, usually sitting a couple of inches away from me on the soft cushions.

But Theodore didn't like, sit next to me, like a normal person would. Instead he sat directly next to me. Our legs touching. I stiffened a bit and shifted my gaze over to him. He just yawned and stretched his arms out, one of them sliding around my shoulder. I stiffened a bit more. He sighed contently and rested his head on my shoulder. I looked at him. He had his eyes closed and was either trying, or pretending, to sleep.

I shrugged. The movement of my shoulders didn't seem to bother him. So I tried again. It had a similar result. I just shook my head and went back to the assignment. I finished writing about the second spell and moved onto the third. It only took me a few pages to find one that I found suitable. This one was slightly less nasty and actually sounded like it would be used more often for fun-time bondage than anything else.

At least until I read that the ropes had tiny little thorns embedded into them that could pierce through almost anything. And there was even a version you could summon that had some sort of narcotic in it that made people pass out. Sounded rather handy for rounding up your downed enemies and then not having to worry about them waking up and attacking you from behind. Granted, I never had any intention of winding up in a situation where I had to worry about rounded up enemies. Although I bet it was a staple for Aurors!

"Trying to sleep here, Daphne," Theodore Nott said as I flipped through the book looking for a fourth spell. I blinked a bit. He's lucky he was putting a great deal of his weight on my right arm. It was hard enough to write like that, but it made it perfectly impossible for me to slap him. At least to slap him and expect any suitable results. I mean I could still flail aimlessly with my left, but frankly, no one wants to see that.

"Go to your bed then," I said dryly. "You have one, you know, in your dormitory."

"More comfortable here," he said quietly.

"Because my bony shoulder is an incredible pillow," I mused. He just smiled a bit and shifted closer to me.

"It's not bad. Company here is better than in my dorm too. Unless you'd like to join me!" he blushed as he spoke. I was actually rather amazed little Teddy had worked up the courage for that one. I blushed a bit.

"No thanks," I said. "Especially with what Draco and Pansy are probably up to."

"Draco's not around. He took Gregory and Vincent and left," Teddy said, almost as if he expected that would change my answer.

"Good for him," I said. "Still trying to finish my defense homework."

"You'll have plenty of time for that after dinner," Theodore yawned. I shook my head.

"No, after dinner I'll have to do Muggle Studies, or History of Magic reading. And probably some other essay or something," I explained. I let him keep his head on my shoulder though.

"Should have just taken five classes," Theodore said. Most of the sixth years were. It was very Ravenclaw of me to not drop two going into the sixth year. But I had to appease my parents somehow.

"Probably," I admitted. "But I can always drop one if I can't keep up. For now, I'm fine. So I don't get to sleep in as much as I like on weekends. So far it hasn't been so bad." And it really hadn't been. Usually a good portion of our day, as much as we shouldn't admit it, was spent lazing around the common room, talking or playing games. Most of the students who had brooms flew around on warm afternoons. So I spent a bit more time doing homework now than I'd like. It wasn't as if I really did that much more fun stuff in my free time. Perhaps, if I had a boyfriend, I'd think of some better things to do. But for now, it didn't really matter that much.

"Muggle Studies," Theodore nodded. I figured he was telling me what class I should drop, so I just laughed a little bit.

"Herbology," I responded without missing a beat. He just shrugged, as if he felt like that was an adequate choice as well.

"That class sucked today," Theodore said. I snorted a bit. But he seemed rather clueless about what actually happened. "Although you got out of it early." Yea. Like I said. Clueless.

"Indeed," I said, deciding it was best to not mention that I'd thrown up all over the floor of the greenhouse. But he was right, I had at least gotten out of class early! I kept scribbling on my assignment. It must have annoyed Theodore because he eventually sat back up. Which was a bit of a relief. Although he did keep his arm wrapped around my shoulders, which wasn't a relief. He looked over at what I was scribbling down and sighed.

"Can I get a couple of those when you're done?" he asked. I blinked a bit.

"So you can just nap through our break period?" I laughed. "No."

"Please, Daph?" he begged. It was a bit unbecoming. Of course he didn't seem to realize that I was kind of annoyed by his presence and that I was trying really hard to not say something mean and get him to go away.

I vaguely remembered my Dad's warning about watching how I should be careful around housemates, specifically Theodore. Perhaps he had some mission from his ancient father. I mean, who knows, some of my housemates had strange families. What had my dad said? That whomever wanted to marry me would have to earn my hand, or something like that. Could this be Theodore trying? But it wasn't like he'd really paid much attention to me in the first couple of weeks at school. Granted, I hadn't really let him.

But this was a bit odd. I'm not sure what I'd done to ever give him the impression that he should be attempting to hold me on the couch. But I really did just want to get this assignment done and not worry about it. I was on the last spell too! And then I could go get lunch, disappear to Runes and History and then spend the rest of the evening reading. I know it sounded pretty boring, but it wouldn't be that bad.

Anyway, I found a suitable spell and leaned over the table to finish writing on my parchment. It was easier than using the textbook and flipping between them. And since Theodore wasn't resting on my shoulder anymore, it gave me an excuse to move a bit away from him. I finished scribbling a bit about a curse that knocked people onto the ground and gave them concussion-like symptoms. I felt a bit iffy about including that one, as magic that was used on the brain could have serious ramifications. But at the very least, it shouldn't be fatal.

I sighed happily as I finished up the assignment. I tucked the parchment into cover of the textbook for safekeeping and slipped away from Theodore, moving off of the couch and back up to my dormitory. Thankfully, he didn't follow me. Not that he'd have been able to get far. I gazed up through the clear ceiling for a moment, gazing at the fish from the bottom of the lake. Part of me debated just dropping onto my bed and hoping I'd wake up before History. But my stomach grumbled, and I decided that after emptying its contents earlier I should probably get some lunch. But first, I decided to brush my teeth again. And then I washed my face. I'd already magically cleaned myself, but sometimes actually physically doing it helped you feel a bit better.

I walked back into the common room. Theodore was one of the only students left there. If I had to guess I'd have bet that everyone went to lunch. He looked at me and smiled.

"Shall we go to lunch?" Theodore asked. I just blinked a bit. But since I was heading there anyway I nodded.

"Sure," I said. He nodded and we left the common room together. He walked next to me, making one attempt to take my hand, but I slipped away from him and then kept my hands firmly down at my sides.

I tried to slip between Millicent and Tracey as we arrived at lunch, but Tracey stood almost as soon as I sat and moved over to talk to Pansy. Which Theodore took as a cue to sit far too close to me again. I sighed but didn't comment. I took some juice from a nearby pitcher and grabbed half of a turkey club off of a nearby platter. I picked it apart with my fingers and ate it piece by piece. My parents would have scolded me for playing with my food rather than eating it, but they weren't here so I didn't particularly care. I ate slowly and looked around.

Mostly I tried to create inane conversation with Millicent while ignoring Theodore. She didn't seem receptive to conversation, though. Just when I was going to ask her what was wrong, she got up with the excuse of doing some homework. So instead I was left pretty much alone with Theodore. Thankfully, he didn't say much as he ate his own sandwich. But I didn't think I was imagining the tension between us. At least, the tension I felt. He looked reasonably calm.

I looked around the hall, mostly to avoid having to acknowledge Theodore was still sitting next to me. I shouldn't have been as on edge as I was, I knew that much. But, still, I didn't like not knowing someone else's motivation. Perhaps if I'd have known him better I could have reacted better. But for now, I figured just sitting and eating was probably the best bet.

Across the hall I saw Potter. I wasn't really looking for him, as I was just gazing around at every table. He was staring at me. Watching me a bit. He smiled a little bit when he noticed I was also looking at him. He blushed and had that sheepish look that he knew he'd been caught. It was about that same time that Nott put his arm around my shoulder again. I tensed a bit more. Potter nodded a bit toward Nott, his expression changing a little bit. He looked almost concerned. I just shrugged and looked away and went back to dissecting my turkey club.

Lunch didn't last long, though, and Theodore walked with me back to the common room. I scampered away from him immediately upon entering the dungeons. But before I could scamper up to the dormitory and retrieve my books Theodore spoke.

"Hey Daphne?" He asked. I looked at him.

"Hmm?" I asked, gazing away, thinking it would be rude to just bolt on him.

"There's something I wanted to, uhm, do," he said, looking at me. I just raised my eyebrows and repeated a similar, non-vocal form of communication. He looked at me for a moment and then leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I blinked and didn't move. He tried again. I stepped away. Blinked a bit. And then slapped him across the face.

"What the hell!" I yelled. A few students hanging around the common room looked at us a bit. Theodore reached up to his face. I think, and I couldn't be sure, but I think he was actually tearing up a bit.

"Daphne! I," he started but I didn't stick around long enough to listen. Instead I pretty much ran into my dorm and gathered up the books I would need for Ancient Runes and History before quickly leaving the common room and heading to my remaining classes.

I probably didn't pay as much attention as I should have in either of them. I really zoned out during history. But I'd be able to catch up on all of that just by the reading. Professor Binns spent the entire session lecturing on ancient wizards and magical beasts. I'm not sure what got him on that tangent, or if he even realized we were his sixth year class and not his seventh, but it worked for me. Every now and then the ghost made mistakes of that nature. Usually they weren't part of the exam.

Part of me couldn't help but wonder just how long the ghost would continue teaching. Probably as long as he felt like it, as there certainly didn't seem to be much demand for a new professor. I entertained a brief day-dream of me teaching the class a few years down the road. I liked to think I could at least keep students a bit more entertained. I certainly wouldn't just lecture.

I really just sat and brooded about Theodore. I mean that was my first kiss! And he'd just all clumsily put his lips against mine. And just rested them there, like I was supposed to do something! That so wasn't at all romantic. Or even called for! I certainly hadn't given him any indication I wanted anything like that! And that was my first kiss! He didn't even try to make it romantic. It was just blam! There wasn't even any attempt to hold me or be sexy about it! So I think it's pretty clear how much I accomplished in History.

**Author's Note:** For what it's worth, this chapter was originally around 2500 words longer. But one of my beta's suggested it was better if it ended here, rather than at the ending I had. I agreed. On the positive side, that means around 2500 words of chapter six are already complete. And since I'd expect six to be about as long as this one, that means it's around a third of the way done already. I do have to rework some of it just to get it to make sense, but there's that.

Interestingly, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, but didn't like it that much upon completion. My favorite scene in the whole thing is the scene that was cut and will wrap up the next chapter. Regardless, thanks for reading. And thanks for the reviews, I appreciate all of them.

On a side note I'm still willing to add a beta or two to all of my stories. PM me if interesting. A PM in general is the best way to get in contact with me. I respond to all of them. I try to respond to reviews too, especially ones that ask questions. But please note that I cannot respond to guest reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements, in alphabetical order: Alpha-Alieria, Bird875, DwellerMan-Underground, and E. C. Scrubb for the beta work.

Chapter 6

Runes was better than history had been, but only because I was forced to actually work. We had to come up with a runic scheme that made something become a certain color when it performed a certain task. I'd gotten my idea from Muggle street lights and was making my object, which just happened to be a circular rock, roll when it was green, roll slower when it turned yellow, and stop when it turned red.

So yea, my Stop And Go rock was probably the lamest thing I'd come up with in runes in, oh, ever. But I'd been a little preoccupied at the start of class. I was never particularly good at letting things go. But really, it wasn't that hard of an assignment. Had we been allowed to use Latin or Greek engravings I'd have probably had the entire thing done in a class period or two. But instead it was our introduction into Sanskrit and I was having some difficulty with the magic.

It didn't really matter, though, as everyone else in the class, Granger included, was struggling with the new language too. We hadn't even really started learning it as a language yet, which just made it more difficult. But it was our introductory assignment and we'd been assured that anything remotely passable would result in an Outstanding grade. So that was a plus. But it didn't prevent me from cursing under my breath when my current runic attempt didn't work.

"Would you please stop mumbling to yourself!" Someone said from the table to my left. I looked up at Hermione Granger as she continued speaking. "I can't keep the languages straight with you cursing up a storm over there!" She sounded exasperated. Whatever she was attempting to do wasn't working either. So I was a little proud of myself that I'd gotten mine to at least change color once. And yes, I was ignoring the fact that whatever it was she was doing looked considerably more complicated than what I was doing.

"Oh, just deal with it. I don't complain when you decide to lecture the entire class on the reading," I responded snottily as I started to page through my book, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong. Amazingly, Granger just scoffed and didn't make any sort of comment. She must have been more stressed by the assignment than she was letting on.

It would have probably been easier had we actually gone over any of the Sanskrit before now. But Professor Babbling thought this would be a fun way to spend our Thursday before actually moving on to the language next week.

The part that actually bothered me the most was that the semantics didn't appear to be working the same. I'd linked the runes in a way that would have worked in Latin and Greek. And even in a way that would have probably worked in a more modern runic sense. That was actually the part I found the most fascinating about Runes. Yes, most of it was done in random symbols and with odd old languages.

But it was completely possible to use modern symbols for runes, too. Typically, they required a little more magical power behind them. For some reason that I couldn't explain, mostly because I hadn't really paid attention during that lecture in fifth year, the older the symbol, and the longer it had been associated with whatever it represented, the more powerful it tended to be in charms. Anyway, I finished with the new combination I was going to try and stared at my rock.

"Red," I said in Sanskrit. I probably mispronounced it. Professor Babbling was always on my ass about how my Latin and Greek pronunciation was just abysmal. I'd gotten detention once for claiming Latin pronunciation didn't matter, because it was a dead language. Well, let's just say the research I had to do on still prominent wizarding communities that used Latin as their official language was a bit daunting.

But, back to the point. After I spoke, the rock turned a dark red and managed to slide up so it was resting on its side, in a position that it could start to roll from. It wasn't quite the shade I was going for, but at this point, I wasn't going to argue with it. Not that you could actually argue with a rock. And while I'm sure that yelling at the enchanted object when it wasn't cooperating wouldn't show up in any text book as an effective way to fix your mistakes. But it made me feel better. But making it sit up and turn red wasn't really that difficult. I'd been stuck on this stage for the better part of the last twenty minutes.

"Green," I said, still in Sanskrit. It turned green and fell over. I cursed under my breath again. Last time it had started to roll in a small circle, as I wanted it to, but it had stayed red.

"Please!" Granger said, looking exasperated. I just glared at her. She had some sort of marionette in front of her with all sorts of runes carved into the base. My first thought was that it looked sort of like a harem girl. You know, puffy pants, pretty much no top, veil. But I think it was supposed to be a belly dancer.

I'd actually done some of that style dancing when I was younger. I wasn't really a fan. But I was actually kind of intrigued to see what her object did. And I didn't really care to know just how long she'd taken just to sculpt the thing out of the block of clay I'd seen her with earlier.

"Working," I scoffed in response.

"Attempting to replicate a third year runic pattern hardly constitutes working," she spat. I raised a brow and looked at her.

"At least mine moves," I responded snottily. Yea, it was probably a bit petty of me.

"Not at the moment," Granger commented. "Unless in my time away from my parents Green because the universal symbol of stopping." I winced a bit but couldn't quite come up with a better comeback; so I just went back to my runes. But a moment later I heard a small whimpering noise and looked over. Granger was crying?

"Uhm," I said, looking at her. She looked up. It wasn't a full waterworks. She was just sniffling a bit and staring at her doll. She looked up at me and sighed.

"Sorry," she said, looking up at me. I just blinked a little bit.

"Uhm, me too?" I said, not really sure why she was apologizing. If I was honest, mean-spirited banter wasn't as rare as it probably should have been in a school, although I would admit Granger wasn't usually one to engage in it.

"I can't get it to work," she said, exasperatedly. I blinked a bit. Something had to be bothering Granger. Because those were words I'm not sure I'd ever heard her speak. I thought back to earlier, and how Weasley was pretty much ignoring her. And Potter wasn't really paying her any attention either. But that didn't seem to be something that would typically bother Hermione Granger. I had to wonder what was going on in Gryffindor land.

"Can I look at it?" I asked, knowing full well I likely wouldn't be able to help. But I was attempting to be nice. It seemed like one way I could indirectly attempt to repay Potter for being nice to me earlier in the day.

"Sure," Granger just sighed, skeptically, like she knew I wouldn't be able to help. But I moved over next to her anyway. The amount of detail on the clay figuring was incredible. She'd even put in little ruffles in the pants and the veil. I stared at it for a moment before looking down at the system of runes she was using. I didn't recognize any of them, really. She'd obviously done some reading ahead on the new language. I pressed my lips together, hoping to come up with anything.

"Well she's incredible," I said dumbly, knowing that I really didn't need to be complimenting her.

"Thanks," she said dumbly. "I can get her to perform all the actions. But I can't get them to repeat or link together.

"I see," I said. I stared at the runes for a few moments and then actually laughed a little bit. I reached over for my Sanskrit book and showed her the page I was on. I'd just stumbled upon it while looking in the index for something that would make my rock roll in a circle. "This was what I just tried." Granger looked at it for a moment and then looked at her runes, her eyes went wide.

"I knew I should have read further ahead! That makes perfect sense!" She grabbed her own book and found the page with just a furious glance at the corner of mine. She then immediately started etching the symbols into the base of her doll. I slipped back toward my rock, feeling rather inferior, but went back to working. Granger didn't look up or comment for the rest or the class

Either way I was getting closer by the time the class ended. I could get it to start and stop with both basic direct commands, and color commands. I couldn't quite get the slow down or yellow to work properly though. The same trick I'd used for red and green wasn't working for some reason, and I wasn't skilled enough to figure out what aspect of it wasn't working. Professor Babbling awarded me five points for my efforts, which was a nice little reward.

Unfortunately, the professor spent about five minutes talking about Hermione's belly dancing sculpture that had its clothing changed color in relation to whatever dance she was doing, was artisan quality work, and something that he'd never seen a student pull off. She got twenty points and I cursed myself for being helpful. Knowing Granger, though, she'd have figured it out anyway in probably five more minutes.

Dinner afterwards was fairly quiet. I just nibbled on some pork chop. I wasn't the biggest fan of pork, but it was the most appetizing thing at the table that evening. So it was what I went with. I ate some roasted potatoes as well, and a few carrots. I sat with Pansy and Millicent. Pansy spent most of the evening whining about how Draco wasn't spending that much time with her anymore. That he was "always busy with his friends" and only ever saw her at nights. I didn't really listen too much to her. But it didn't matter because she didn't really want Millicent or I to comment.

Thankfully, despite a few people witnessing Theodore and I in the common room, no one brought it up or even looked at me funny for the duration of dinner. The few people that saw us looked younger. Perhaps Theodore scared or threatened them into not talking. I mean, he wasn't the most threatening looking person in our house. But Slytherins tended to respect the yearly hierarchy.

I walked back to the common room with Millicent after we both finished eating. She was strangely quiet. I should have asked her what was wrong. But I was too busy thinking about how long and terrible my day had been. Really I just wanted to curl up with a book and go to bed. Hopefully tomorrow couldn't be any worse. Still, it was strange that she didn't speak with me, at all, on our walk back to the dungeons.

When we entered the common room I wandered over to my usual spot on the couch and took my History of Magic book out of my bag. I didn't really want to review my entire set of notes, but I figured I probably should. Especially since I hadn't paid any attention in class. Millicent sat next to me. But she was still quiet, reading her Magical Creatures text. After about fifteen minutes I got bored and decided something had to be up with her.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, hoping I did my best to indicate that she didn't have to talk about it, if she didn't want to, and that we could do so quietly enough to not arouse suspicion from the rest of the common room.

"Really?" she asked, staring at me. I blinked a bit.

"Uhm, yes?"

"You're being a bit stuck up lately," Millicent said. I hadn't really expected that one.

"How?" I asked, sounding snottier than I'd have liked.

"You're never hanging out with me. You're hanging out with Tracey a lot more. And you know how she is," Millicent said.

"Well that's not intentional. We just help each other with Transfiguration," I responded.

"Sure," Millicent said skeptically. I'd complained of working with Tracey in Transfiguration in the past. But she'd gotten a bit better this year. Mostly I think because the class was so much harder that she knew she needed help.

"Well it's true! It makes the assignments take like nearly half the time!" I argued. Millicent just rolled her eyes.

"And then what about Theodore. You know he likes you," she said stiffly.

"I don't like him?" I said, feeling very confused.

"So why are you leading him on!" Millicent spat. I blinked. Did she like him? Please I hoped so. That may make things easier for me!

"I'm not. I slapped him today when he kissed me." I said, dumbly.

"He kissed you?" Millicent responded, jealously.

"Yes," I said. "Just grabbed me and kissed me."

"Lucky you," Millicent said. I groaned.

" Lucky me? I want no part of him! I just want him to leave me alone," I admitted.

"What, not good enough for you?" she asked, angrily. I looked at her, my eyes widening a bit. I really didn't see much of a point in arguing with her. But Millicent wasn't usually that abrasive. I mean, I know what everyone says about her, but she was typically a quiet, and rather meek, girl. Usually she just stayed out of the way.

"What? No, I-" I started but she interrupted.

"Because he's really nice, and quiet, and a good person to hang out with! And you'd be lucky to have him!" Millicent argued. I just shook my head.

"I'm sure! But I don't know him, his dad tried to form some marriage contract with my parents, and now I'm supposed to just love him?" I asked. Millicent just stared at me, almost like that was exactly what I was supposed to do.

"You're lucky you've already got an offer for your hand," she said quietly before turning and looking away from me. I knew she was going all self-conscious about her looks, and that I should have been supportive. But I was too annoyed. I suppose that didn't help her argument that I was being a bitch, but I wasn't particularly thinking about that at the moment.

"From someone's father. I'd rather have someone make an offer for my hand to me," I growled. Millicent just shook her head. She was going to argue further, but Theodore returned to the common room at that moment. He walked in with Pansy and Tracey, they were talking about something or other. He looked over toward me. His expression was a bit curious, his eyes locked onto mine for just a moment. He looked like he was going to come over and talk to me.

But I really didn't want him to do that. I didn't want to hear an apology, or an explanation, or anything that he would come up with. Really, part of me was afraid it would be something far more than what I had imagined. That he'd be mean. I knew that he wasn't a mean kid. But I had hit him. So I did what I thought best.

I went up to my dorm. I changed into my pajamas quickly and debated just what I was going to do. There weren't really that many options, if I'm honest. I'd just have to avoid him for a bit and hope that someone else caught his eye. I mean, after being ceremoniously dumped by Titus, Tracey was available. And Millicent was patently unattached. And there were a few cute fifth years. He was a teenage boy, he should be easily distracted, right?

Of course why would I want to have him get distracted on his own? Boys were thick and not particularly good at that. Perhaps I could give him some gentle prodding along the way. Judging from Millicent's reaction she had a think for Nott. Maybe I could come up with a way to get them together. That would get him off my back and maybe make her happier. That scenario warranted further investigation, but I wasn't going to get to it tonight.

So, I decided to grab my next Muggle Studies book out of my trunk. I tossed it onto the bed before walking into the bathroom and pouring myself a glass of water. I walked back to my bed, placing the glass on my bedside table before flopping down onto my bed and opening up the text.

I read for a few hours. Reading helped my clear my head. It always had. I focused on the characters in the story more than my own life. And soon, I felt almost as if I was there with them. I got about halfway through the book, before Tracey came up to the dorm room. I turned off my light shortly after and rolled onto my side, reading for a few more minute just by a dim lumos from my wand. But I gave up after just a few pages and set both the book and my wand on the bedside table before pulling back the curtains, closing my eyes, and eventually drifting off to sleep.

Thankfully Friday was easy. Much to my amusement, neither McGonagall nor Professor Snape assigned actual homework for the weekend. Instead we had time to study and review for an exam in Defense, as Professor Snape indicated he felt we were all going to fail. And McGonagall just assigned a bunch of new theory reading on things we'd be starting to practice in the coming weeks. We probably had an exam coming up in that class, too, but I didn't know what day it was.

Still, going into the weekend with very little educational commitments was very nice. Especially when the weekend promised to be beautiful, weather wise. I likely spent too much time staring out the window and wishing I was getting what could be the last of the late-fall sun. But we were still just discussing _Tender is the Night_. And I didn't really think I had much more to add on the novel. I mean, I'm sure I could have come up with something if pressed. But I wasn't pressed, so I didn't.

Professor Burbage invited us to stay after for her cooking class. They were informal things she did about once every four to six weeks. They were open, and advertised on the school bulletin boards. Essentially, Professor Burbage picked out a three course meal and demonstrated how to cook it. We were encouraged to help out.

Some students thought it was a bit strange. But the ones who didn't possess a house elf were usually interested. I'd say I probably attended about half of them from my third year. I had a phase where I really wanted to learn how to cook. But I got a bit sick of everything I made tasting just completely awful so I gave up on it. Baking was a different story. Usually I'd help out a bit with whatever dessert she decided to make. But that was it.

I still thought the entire thing was pretty interesting. Professor Burbage claimed she sporadically trained as a chef after Hogwarts and that she liked to actually cook. She tried to do so with as little magic as possible. But she'd break down for timing purposes, especially when the classes were crowded, and use spells to chop the ingredients or start the oven or whatever else needed to be done.

So that's how I spent my Friday evening. It was fun. There was a very partisan debate between everyone in attendance as to who would win the school Quidditch cup that year. Naturally, I vehemently supported Slytherin.

The cooking demonstration broke up shortly after dessert. This time I didn't help. Professor Burbage instead had three third years make a red velvet cake. I only had a small piece of it, but it was good. We dispersed about fifteen minutes before after-hours. It took me pretty much every minute of that to get back to the dungeons.

I slept in on Saturday, and it was wonderful. I was the last of the sixth year girls to wander out of the dormitory. I packed a few books into my pack and stepped into the nearly deserted common room. A quick glance at the events posted on the wall told me there was a quidditch practice today and that the first match was next weekend against the lions. But I figured most of my housemate would be out by the pitch, so that's where I wandered.

It took me a while to leisurely walk down to the quidditch pitch. I stopped to chat with Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Michael Corner was flirting with Hannah a bit so really Susan and I just exchanged pleasantries as I continued on my way.

I found a seat near Pansy when I finally made it to the quidditch stands. She was sitting a few rows behind Astoria and her friends and appeared to be brooding a bit. I knew that sitting next to her likely meant I was in for some complaint about how Draco had been acting. I looked up toward the green robed figures and didn't see him flying up there. So I could only assume that he really was serious about giving up on Quidditch.

Pansy didn't say anything as I pulled out my Transfiguration book and began to read. She appeared to be lost in thought. I couldn't help but wonder just what the two of them were going through. I know she'd complained about him before. But she'd just said he was distant. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was more to that now. But really, they still seemed to be spending a lot of time together. Although Pansy was sleeping in our dormitory more than she had been at the end of last year.

It took me far too long to actually accomplish the reading. I kept getting distracted by the quidditch plays. Which was a bit unusual, because watching practice was fairly boring. Really I wasn't that interested in the games in general. Sure, I'd go to the house ones, but mostly because it was something to do. But, watching practice was still more entertaining than the Transfiguration reading so I let it distract me. Of course that just meant that it took me forever to actually accomplish the reading.

They were still practicing when I left, although the Ravenclaw team was growing rather antsy to get onto the pitch. Urquhart wasn't being accommodating and the Ravenclaw captain was obviously growing a bit upset. Luckily for Urquhart, though, Professor Snape was the only faculty member present.

I enjoyed the last bit of warmth that the year would offer and wandered away from the pitch and toward the lake. I sat on one of the benches and rifled through my pack, hoping I'd brought my defense notes to review for that silly exam on Monday. Naturally, I hadn't. But I had the Muggle Studies book on me still, so that would work.

I plopped down on a bench near the lake and started to read. The breeze was a bit cool and I wasn't wearing my cloak, but the sweater was warm, and I had my socks pulled up to my knees, so I figured I'd be fine. After I'd read about twenty pages someone sat next to me on the bench. They didn't sit particularly close to me; instead they sat at the complete opposite end of the bench. I ignored them. At least for a few moments, until he spoke.

"Well you're not on page twelve anymore," he asked, his voice soft.

"No, I'm not," I responded without looking up from the pages. Didn't the prick realize that it was hard to read and converse, and that since I was reading, I didn't really want to converse?

"So?" He asked. I blinked a bit, not sure what he was getting at.

"So what?" I responded as harshly as I could. To my infinite dismay he just laughed quietly under his breath.

"So? You said you'd tell me if it was any good when you'd 'read more than like twelve pages,'" he said. He did a fairly good impression of me. Although I was pretty sure it wasn't a direct quote. I dog-eared a page and looked up at Potter. He wasn't even looking at me. Instead he just gazing up at the sky, looking toward the sun, with his eyes closed. He was wearing his quidditch uniform and his Firebolt was resting across his lap.

"Well I'm not done with it yet," was all I could come up with to say. I'd wanted to make some sort of snide comment about how if he really cared he should just read it himself, but he looked so peaceful just sitting there, smiling up at the warmth.

"Then is it any good so far?" he asked. I had the strangest feeling he wasn't going away. And I'm not sure how I felt about that. I really did want to read. But at the same time I was already ahead on the reading, and talking to someone about books, or really anything that wasn't related to Slytherin or other magical classes, could be fun, or at least different. Although, judging from his expression, I didn't think he actually cared.

"I don't know," I said, honestly. I wasn't sure what my opinion on the novel was yet. But so far it wasn't particularly favorable.

"So not having fun?" He asked. I just kept looking at him. He just kept his gaze upward and his eyes closed.

"Well, no. I just don't like the main characters," I said. "Some of the minor ones have good lines on occasion, but the main two are terrible."

"Why's that?" Potter asked. I didn't really see how he could be interested. But he kept asking, so I kept answering.

"Well do you know what it's about?" I asked. So it wasn't quite an answer, oh well. I couldn't just explain why without the context.

"No."

"Well there's this American soldier. And it's during The Great War, the Muggle one, and he's in charge of like ambulances and ferrying bodies away from the front. Anyway, he meets this nurse, and tries to sleep with her and what not. Anyway, the war goes on and all that and he gets wounded by a mortar and is taken back to the hospital to have his leg worked on. And guess who he meets there?" I was fairly amaze that I'd gotten most of that out in one breath. I also framed the questions simply to see if he was actually paying attention.

"The nurse?" Potter asked. Apparently he was.

"Indeed. So he's back at the hospital. And he falls for the nurse. Eventually his leg is all healed. He goes back to the front and then meets her again and they run away to Switzerland," I explained the plot in a nutshell. They were in a rowboat on their way to Switzerland at the point I was reading. I assumed they got there, but I wasn't positive yet.

"What's so bad about that? Sounds like a pretty standard love story," Harry said. I nodded a bit.

"Well yea, but they're playing some game, or so they say. Like it's all one big joke. And the main guy goes on about honor and duty a lot at the start and then runs away from the war," I complained.

"A game?" He asked.

"Yes, like it's some sort of fantasy romance. Like they're just using each other to live something else out. No matter how much he claims he loves her, you can never tell if it's true or just part of the game. She always thinks that it is part of their little game," I explained. He nodded a bit and looked at me.

"That makes it less romantic," Potter said.

"Quite. And then there's the fact that the entire time he's in the hospital she's sleeping with him. And that's just wrong on so many levels. Oh and he knocks her up," I said. Part of me wondered if Professor Burbage's reading list was just people sleeping with their medical professionals. I doubted it, but two in a row seemed a bit odd. Of course, in the case of the latest book, I figured you could just chalk it up to the male author's fantasies.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Potter responded meekly. I looked over at him and saw he was flushed red. I shook my head a bit. Boys.

"Probably not from your perspective," I spat. He just smiled weakly and turned to look at me.

"Well it sounds like there certainly could be worse things," he defended himself.

"To you, perhaps," I commented idly, looking back toward the book. I think he could sense my annoyance as he changed the subject.

"So should I read it?" he asked.

"If you want to," I responded. Unfortunately for him, his subject change didn't help hinder my annoyance. I hate giving recommendations or advice like that. People never really seemed to like what I recommended anyway, so it just made me feel bad when they didn't enjoy it. Potter just shrugged.

"Well, I'll think about it this summer," he said. I rolled my eyes and he chuckled a bit, which made me glare at him.

"What!" I said at his little laugh.

"Nothing that was just…uhm. Never mind," he said, blushing a tad more.

"What!" I demanded again. He sighed but spoke.

"The eye roll and your expression. Like you didn't think there was any sort of chance I would actually consider reading it," he explained. He would have probably continued but I cut him off.

"That was the point," I said. Sure, I hadn't really thought of that being the point, but it was the reasoning behind the instinctual reaction.

"I know," he responded. "But the whole thing was, well, kind of cute." He blushed a bit more. I blinked and stared at him, my expression completely blank.

"No," I said, sternly. He just laughed. Which made me repeat myself. "No."

"Alright, alright," he just shook his head. He was still smiling. "Sorry I thought you were cute." I frowned a bit at his words, feeling kind of bitchy and mean. Was that why he was being so nice to me? Simply because he thought I was cute? I mean maybe. Boys often did things for girls they thought were attractive. It was usually fairly easy to manipulate, too.

But he'd been so unassuming. Even now, he was just glancing around from the bench, his gaze sliding over toward the quidditch pitch. I frowned again, as I wasn't sure what was going through his mind and that bothered me. But then I remembered someone once told me my frown was cute, so I cleared the expression off my face and turned my own gaze to the quidditch pitch as well.

I could still see figures flying around, but my vision wasn't quite good enough to pick out the color of their uniforms. I thought it looked more like blue than green, but part of me assumed the silver could look like blue from afar. I squinted a bit but it didn't help. Eventually, when I realized he was still sitting there, I asked.

"So why are you here?"

"We were supposed to have the pitch from one to three," he said. I wasn't sure what time it was, but considering I'd woken up just before noon, I could guess.

"Oh," I said.

"Yea. So I spent part of that time spying on the Slytherin's team practice. Urquhart certainly isn't very observant of who's in the stands during practice," Potter said.

"I'll tell him you said that," I interrupted.

"Please don't," he smiled. And I decided that I wouldn't. In fairness, I probably wouldn't have anyway. Still, I'm sure someone else noticed him watching. "But anyway, after Slytherin took three hours for the one hour of practice time, I figured I should just let Ravenclaw have the pitch."

"What, not going to practice before the match next week? We'll stomp you," I teased. But I managed to keep my expression passive.

"Well I also have the pitch booked tomorrow morning," he said with a smile.

"Figures," I scoffed.

"Well I thought something like this could happen when Slytherin had the pitch first and Snape was overseeing everything," he said. "So Sunday practice will have to do. And probably a Wednesday evening one next week. I suppose I could have asked Hufflepuff if they wouldn't mind us practicing before them. But I'll just leave it be for now."

"Why not just take your turn like everyone else?" I asked, as that seemed like the simplest situation to me.

"Figured this would be easier," he said. After a moment of silence he added. "And I got sick of hearing Ron and Ginny complain. And Dean was sitting next to Ginny and I got sick of their, uhm, displays."

"Hmm?" I asked. I was only half paying attention so it didn't occur to me what he would be trying to be cryptic for.

"Well Ginny and Dean are going out. And she likes to flaunt the fact that Ron doesn't have a girlfriend. And I really don't feel like watching them kiss and touch," he explained. He also flushed a deep shade of crimson that matched his flying robes and looked at the ground. It was my turn to smile and laugh. I recognized that expression. I'd seen it on other jealous people before. Hell, I'd probably worn it before.

"Oh I see. You like the little Weasley!" I exclaimed. His gaze shot to me and his expression confirmed I was right, although his next comment was one of dissention.

"No," he said sternly, much like I had earlier. "She's my best friend's sister. That's like doctor and patient." I laughed a little more. Apparently he'd been paying closer attention to what I'd been saying earlier.

"If you insist," I smirked. "But thank you for the blackmail material." He just grumbled under his breath before changing the subject.

"So why are you out here?" he asked.

"Reading," I said, holding up the book. "I did the Transfiguration reading while watching practice. But I got distracted and it took forever so I came down here."

"Ugh, I forgot about that," he sighed. "Please tell me it's at least entertaining?"

"Not really," I said and he sighed. A moment later he stood and propped his broom up on his shoulder. I noticed it was a bit chillier out and figured it probably wasn't a bad time to go back inside and either get some food or get a start on studying for the Defense exam.

"Well I should go do that reading so I can focus on Quidditch tomorrow," he said. I nodded a bit.

"I'm about to head inside too," I said. "It's starting to get cold." And I stood as well and walked next to him as we moved back toward the castle.

"Uniform is too warm to tell," he laughed. I glared at him. Those flying robes were bulky. But I suppose when you fly around the cold air something a bit heavier would be preferred.

"Well it's getting colder," I said with a sigh. "I hate the cold. There's maybe only one or two more days of warm sunshine before spring."

"Probably," he agreed. "I never really minded cold weather, though. Come to think of it, I'm pretty indifferent on most weather."

"I always get homesick when it gets cold," I admitted. It just sort of slipped out. I wasn't sure why I said it.

"And now we're even on blackmail material," Potter laughed. I just rolled my eyes.

"Like you don't get homesick," I said. He just looked at me for a moment. For the briefest of instants I thought he looked like he was mad at me. But then he just smiled and shook his head.

"Nope," he admitted. "If anything I get schoolsick when I'm at home." It was my turn to just stare at him.

"Weirdo," I said.

"Maybe. My relatives aren't that much fun," he said. I was going to ask about them, but he continued before I could speak. "What do you miss the most?"

"Oh you know, hanging around with my parents and mostly that being at home means it's summer and it's warm, and I can laze around," I said, letting my voice trail off.

"Oh come on, that's standard. What do you really miss, the absolute most, the one thing you'd kill for?" he asked. I frowned and thought about it. My answer sounded rather pathetic.

"Baths," I admitted. They were a soft spot of mine. I loved being able to just laze around in the warm, bubbly, water. To take a nap in their warmth, and to otherwise just rest in the tub. The school showers just didn't cut it.

"Should have been a prefect," Harry laughed. It struck home more than it probably should have. As the prefect baths were probably something I'd have really enjoyed, if the rumors of their lavishness were true. Astoria would probably brag to me about them next year. I knew she'd be a prefect. Simply because it would give her one more thing to brag to our parents about.

"Or a quidditch captain," I scoffed. He nodded a bit.

"Or a quidditch captain," he affirmed as we entered the castle.

After just a few steps he smiled at me once more. "Well nice talking to you, Daphne," he said as he turned off toward Gryffindor Tower. I watched him go for a few moments before heading off toward the dungeons myself. I was content to spend the rest of the day studying my defense notes and waiting for dinner.

I managed to not think of Potter for most of the evening. Granted I was distracted by homework and what not. It also didn't help that I had to spend about an hour helping Astoria with her Transfiguration assignment. In fairness to her, though, she was at least trying on this one and it actually was a challenging piece. I remembered it from my fourth year, and not fondly.

But Potter did work his way back into my thoughts a short time later. Shortly before I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. Mostly I just thought about his smile and his bright green eyes. They were really good features. Astoria had been right about that, much to my dismay. But I was tired enough from all the reading and helping that I didn't even bother reading before just deciding to go to bed.

I was a nurse. I'm not sure why I was a nurse. I didn't want to be a nurse. I had very little interest in medicine. And I hated blood, and sickness, and really everything involved with being a nurse. But there I was, staring into the mirror of a dingy building, in a little brown, corseted, high necked number with a full skirt. My hair was done up and I even had a little hat on with a red cross on it.

On top of my brown outfit was a white apron with red cross on it that matched the one on my hat. I will say, corsets certainly weren't ideal for moving around and being overly helpful to patients. I certainly couldn't be very quick. And I had no idea where my wand was. I should have probably focused on where I was and why I was there, but instead I did a little ballerina-esque twirl while looking in the mirror. I looked good in a corset. That opinion would probably change as soon as I started having difficulties breathing.

I remembered that I was on the night shift. It was dark out, but every few moments it looked almost like day as the shells exploded around us. There weren't any screams yet. But they'd be coming. They always followed the barrages. Those were the only certainties. Sirens and screams, sirens and screams, sirens and screams. And then after there would be the briefest of lulls, always seeming shorter and shorter, before it all started over again. I only had a few moments to ponder why I'd come to Italy. Certainly it had been a mistake. My parents were right. This was no place for me. I was lost and scared every moment of the day. But it wasn't a situation I could get out of yet.

After a particularly loud, and likely close, shell I heard the first of the screams. I stepped out of the bathroom slowly and walked into the main room. We only had a few current patients. And they were all blissfully asleep. Most of them in a morphine-induced rest. I checked on them briefly, knowing it would probably be one of the last chances I had that evening. I prayed that the battle wouldn't move closer to the rear lines. We must have been losing, because the enemies shells flew closer and closer to our aid stations. Weeks ago, the church we converted to the hospital seemed so far from the front. They would go out with ambulance trucks and bring the soldiers back. Now, more often than not, they walked or were carried to us.

I'd just finished with the last patient when I heard the boots. The rhythmic tapping of feet scared me even more, especially as it was accompanied by the screaming of boys and men. The large wooden doors banged open and a group of soldiers came in. They were covered in blood; one of them had been hit, badly, I could already tell. I felt immediately queasy. Three of the healthy ones lifted him onto a nearby table. He was thrashing about when I came over to look at him.

He was a skinny boy that didn't look quite old enough to be there. He looked vaguely familiar but I didn't have time to worry about that. They all started to look vaguely familiar at this point. I'm not sure if they were, or if I just started seeing people I'd known from my life back in London, superimposing new faces onto injured bodies. I know I did it in my nightmares.

"Where's the doc?" one of the soldiers spat. He had green eyes and still had his helmet on, pulled down mostly over the eyes.

"He's back south for a few days," I responded, looking over the boy. It was a lie. The doctor was in the basement of the church. He was a Captain and a drunk. I'd rejected his advances one evening. But one of my fellow nurses hadn't. She didn't have to work the night shift anymore. At least not the night shift where men died.

The boy's left leg was gone below the knee and he had plenty of shrapnel wounds in his side. I took a shaky breath, attempting to steal myself for a moment.

"No," the soldier said. "He needs the doctor."

"Well I'm only one here!" I lied. In addition to the doctor and his partner, two other nurses were down in the basement, sleeping on our little cots. Or at the very least trying to. But he probably knew that well enough. The soldiers helped us build our bunks. Although that seemed so long ago. And these soldiers seemed so much younger than those. I wondered if there were any left from that first group. Regardless we still let them rest there, on occasion, when they received a break from the front. They repaid us with rations and some supplies, small pieces of what little they were issued.

"Is he going to live?" the same soldier asked. I looked at him and pressed my lips together. I was trying to stop the leg from bleeding. It wasn't working. My hands were covered in his blood as I attempted to wrap the leg instead.

"I don't know," I said as I kept working, tying a knot around the stump. I found some other bandages and looked to the chest. More shells exploded nearby. One of the soldiers held a candle over his friend, allowing me to have some little light to work by. But most of what I did was done after the flashes of shells. I kept working, trying to save the boy, and wondering what he'd done to be the first of the unlucky ones to get hit tonight.

I heard a whistling noise and I assumed it was just one of the soldiers looking at his injured friend. At least until a soldier yelled.

"Get down!" he screamed. I froze, but someone grabbed me and pulled me to the floor. It wasn't particularly comfortable. And I wasn't sure how long that it would take me to get up in the corset. Moments later though, part of the building exploded around us. I was frozen on the ground. But one of the soldiers pulled me away. Dragging me to my feet and out of the make-shift hospital.

"No no no!" I yelled, staring back at the building. "We have to get everyone out!" I heard something else explode behind us.

"We can't!" The soldier yelled. "They're shelling this area, we'll be killed if we go back!" And the soldier just kept running, my hand in his. I kept trying to look back, to make it back to my fellow nurses. To save them from the shells and the fires that burned all around now. I hoped they would be okay. But I knew better.

The soldier was moving faster than I thought I could, especially in my outfit. I wasn't sure how often my feet were even on the ground. He just running and running and running. After minutes I started to feel like he was pulling me away from everything, from the explosions, from the death that followed, from the war. But that feeling didn't last very long. You just can't outrun war.

Something hit behind us. We flew. And we hit the ground hard. I landed in dirt and mud. He pulled me further, below a wall. Into what could have only been a trench, or perhaps a hole from artillery. It was wet, and cold, and smelled like death and decay and I was frightened. But after a moment he looked at me.

"Are you okay?" he asked as another barrage of artillery filled the sky. I looked around, and examined myself as best as I could, laying with my back against the wall, sitting in what I hoped was mud. My hair had come slightly undone. And I wasn't sure how I'd get it back into the intricate style. I'd also lost my hat.

"I think so," I said. I shifted a bit to look at him. "Are you okay?" He just nodded a bit.

"Fine," he said. He was the green-eyed one from the hospital. He had messy black hair and he smiled at me. I liked his smile. He was breathing hard as he looked down.

"Let me check," I said and looked over at him as well. I couldn't see if there was any blood on him. I couldn't see anything in the dark, really. So I examined him with my hands, checking for squishy or wet spots, or areas that made him shift painfully. I didn't find any so I simply looked back at him.

It was really hard to tell anything about him in the darkness. His eyes seemed to glow. I could make out the faint green orbs even when it was pitch black. But the only real chances I had were when a shell exploded and gave me a little bit of light.

One such shell landed just meters behind us. I yelped and pretty much fell onto him. He laughed a little bit and I stared at him.

"How do you get used to that!" I pretty much yelled. He pressed a dirty finger to my mouth and whispered.

"Shh. You never know if an enemy is close. Especially when we're not sure where we are," he explained. I scoffed a bit. It's not like the enemy would be shelling its own troops! But he didn't seem to think that. He continued after a moment. "And you just sort of do. You have to. Or you lose it." I was going to respond but another shell exploded nearby and I simply pressed down against him. He laughed a little, but slipped his arms around me and held me comfortingly. I felt safer in his arms. Like the shells wouldn't get me. I pressed my face into his neck and closed my eyes tightly, hoping everything would go away. But it didn't, it simply pushed me closer to the mud and blood.

So I looked up at him. His green eyes were shining still. He stared back at me, smiling a bit and holding me as another shell exploded. I was scared, I was worried, and I wanted to not be there. Not be there at all. And I think he knew. His hands moved comfortingly around my back, softly against my clothes. I felt like a child, and like he was doing everything he could think of to provide some solace.

And I realized that he was safe, and he was warm, and I did the only thing I could think to do. I kissed him. He laughed. That wasn't the appropriate response. But after a moment he kissed me back. And he kept kissing me. His hands sliding over what parts of me they could reach as our lips pressed together. He deepened the kiss and held me tightly. My only thought was that kissing him would be the only thing to keep me safe, to get me through this. And it did. At least until the next flash of light.

I bolted upright when I woke up. I was cold and clammy. At some point during the night I'd kicked my blankets off of me. I looked over toward the bedside table. I still had some water left so I reached out and drank the rest of the glass. I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and rested back on the pillows.

I wasn't sure if that was a nightmare or a good dream. I was panting a bit. My skin felt a little flushed. Like I'd actually been running. But I was cold, and shaking, and still afraid. I shivered with that sense that maybe it had been real, and that I wasn't safe in my bed underneath the castle. It took me a few moments to catch my breath and feel closer to normal.

Everything had seemed so real. But that's the trouble with dreams, isn't it? Everyone had seemed so familiar. And I could have sworn I knew the characters that weren't even actually in the dream. I could put faces to names, and personalities to both. But only for the first few moments of my time back in the waking world. After that, it was all gone.

I pulled my blankets back over my body, picking out one of the softer, fuzzier green ones and balling it up a tad. I held it close to my body, cuddling against it, imagining that it was holding me, and telling me I was being silly and that everything was fine. I may or may not have given it a soft, loving, kiss as I slid my arms around it. Maybe, if I was lucky, it would turn into a green-eyed warrior while I slept.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I appreciate any and all reviews or messages I receive. If you'd like to contact me a PM via the site is the best way to do so. I respond to every one of those I see, usually fairly promptly.

I'm still interested in possibly commissioning someone to do cover art for my stories, PM me if you're interested or know anyone interested.

As always, thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements: Alpha-Alliera, Bird875 and DwellerMan-Underground for the beta work on this chapter.

Chapter 7

The next week was fairly uneventful. Really the rest of that month was fairly uneventful. It got cold way earlier than should be possible. But that was Scotland for you, I guess. And it started to snow, pretty much constantly, the day after the Quidditch match with Gryffindor. We lost, but like half our team didn't play. Well, one chaser and Draco. And frankly, I think Draco's replacement got closer to the snitch than Draco ever had against Potter.

I hated that it kept getting colder. But there was little I could do. Part of me knew that watching the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff quidditch match probably wasn't the best way to spend my day. But what else was I going to do?

So I bundled up and proceeded to the common room. I noticed most of my housemates were filtering out, presumably heading to the match. After all, the matches were the places to be on the weekends when they were held.

"Morning, Daphne," Millicent said as I stepped into the common room. I smiled at her.

"Hey, going to the match?" I asked, despite the fact that I already knew the answer.

"Yes," she said. "Had you planned on it?"

"May as well," I said. "It's that or sit in here and read. And I feel like that's all I've done this year."

"Tell me about it," Millicent responded dryly. It was amazing how we all pretty much did just sit around and do homework now. Astoria and her fellow fourth years had no idea what they were due for. Just as we hadn't really paid attention to the older students when we were younger.

"Well let's go," I said. Millicent just nodded and walked with me out of the common room and into the dungeons. She'd been back to her old self since she went off on me about Teddy. We hadn't spoken for a few days after. But I'd bridged the gap by helping out with some of her homework and simply joking around in the common room one evening. We didn't speak about the argument, and neither of us brought up Theodore Nott. And really, that worked just fine for me. I'd much rather have a close friend than an annoying pseudo-suitor.

Of course, the second I thought about him, he managed to show up. He and Blaise stepped around the corner of one hallway and into our path. I noticed Astoria and one of her friends were walking with Blaise. They seemed rather interested in whatever story he was telling. Theodore stood a couple of steps away from them. He was simply walking with his hands in his pockets while Blaise spoke with animated hand gestures.

"Oh hello, Daphne, Millicent," Blaise said as he saw us. My sister and her friend looked rather annoyed that our mere presence had interrupted the story. Theodore looked rather happy to see us.

"Blaise." Millicent said. The boy just smiled.

"Theodore and I were just going to take Tori and Eve down to the pitch for the match," he explained. I couldn't help but blink a bit. Astoria hated nicknames. Well, she had a phase where she tried to get everyone to call her Ria, but that hadn't lasted. It had always just been Astoria. I'd never minded Daph, but she'd always been a different story. But here she expressed no disgust at the diminutive.

"So were we," Millicent replied.

"Would you mind waiting for us? We just need to fetch some warmer clothing from the dorm," Theodore interjected. I wanted to blurt out that we would indeed mind but Millicent beat me to the punch.

"Not at all," she said and smiled at him. Astoria and Eve didn't look particularly happy with that turn of events, but they simply followed the boys into the common room. I glared a little bit at Millicent, but she wasn't paying attention to me. Instead she just leaned against one of the walls. I did the same a few moments later.

I certainly didn't want to spend the day with Theodore. Of course, the match could be over in a hurry. That was probably my favorite thing about Quidditch. Sometimes it ended in just a few minutes.

But then I had an idea. Perhaps I could use today to try to get Theodore and Millicent to talk a bit more. I mean, it was probably a stretch. Maybe if I kept pulling her in to any conversation, or talking to her, perhaps Theodore would shift his focus from me to her.

Not immediately, mind you. I knew I wouldn't be that lucky. Mother always told me how boys liked to feel important. If I could get Millicent to focus on him, to make him feel important and welcome, then maybe in a few more weeks his interest would shift to her. Judging from the fight I'd just had with her, she likely wouldn't be that opposed that.

It only took the boys a few more minutes to emerge from the common room. Unfortunately, it took Astoria and her friend Eve longer. And apparently Blaise had promised Astoria that they'd wait for her and her friend. So, we just kept leaning against the wall. Blaise took the time to chat with Millicent. I'm sure intentionally, because that left Theodore with me.

"So who's going to win?" he asked. It was a pretty terrible opening topic for him. The extent of my quidditch knowledge was naming the positions and the vaguest of rules. I didn't even really pay that close of attention during our matches. It was just a fun atmosphere for a few weekends out of the year.

"I have no idea," I responded snottily. I'm sure being a bitch probably wasn't the best way to deter interest, but I couldn't really think of anything better.

"Ravenclaw has the better team," Theodore said rather matter-of-factly.

"Good for them," I kept my voice quiet. I looked toward the entrance of the common room and willed my sister to emerge. Of course, Astoria never really did anything I'd have wanted her to do, so it didn't happen.

"So they'll probably win. We need to hope they beat Gryffindor if we're going to have a shot at the quidditch cup," he explained.

"Uh-huh," I said. I looked over toward Millicent and Blaise. I wondered what Blaise had just said as Millicent was blushing rather deeply. At the very least light flirting with Blaise seemed far more amusing than whatever it was Theodore was attempting to talk about.

"Don't you want Slytherin to win the Quidditch cup?" he asked carefully a few moments later. His voice had an accusing tone. Almost like he couldn't believe I wasn't the least bit interested in the sport.

"Sure," I said dryly.

"You don't seem that interested," Theodore said, his voice becoming meek. He looked away from me and I felt bad for being so standoffish. I mean he was trying. But his attempts weren't particularly impressive so far. And I was still mad at him for ruining my first kiss. And on top of that, I'd have assumed he could have at least acted like he knew something I was interested in.

"I'm not," I said.

"But you go to all of the games!" he countered.

"Everyone goes to all of the games," I responded. And it was true; they were the social events of the non-Hogsmeade weekends. And the professors tended to patrol the stands much less diligently than they did the hallways and empty classrooms. Not that I'd ever been able to utilize that perk.

"I suppose," he said. It was pretty clear he never really thought about it. And I guess he was entitled. I mean when you actually care about the games it wouldn't occur to you that a vast portion of the student body just goes to hang out. I think that in my entire six year career at Hogwarts I'd only stayed to the completion of three matches.

When it came right down to it, us girls usually just sat with our friends and chatting about one thing or another. And that was pretty much what I expected to have happen today. Except now I figured Theodore would be intruding in on the conversation.

Thankfully, Astoria and Eve decided that was probably the best moment to emerge from the common room. Astoria walked right up to Blaise and smiled at him. She had a certain cocky confidence about her smile that I was actually just a little bit jealous of. Like I've said before. She was always good at getting people to like her. She then walked past Blaise and started leading our little pack out toward the stands.

When we arrived she conned Blaise into buying her a few cauldron cakes from one of the small concession stands. I bought some every-flavored beans and a drink. Millicent purchased some popcorn. After the stop off at the concession stand we moved toward spot in the stands typically occupied by the faithful of the green and silver. The area wasn't filled with the typical colors today. But Slytherin wasn't playing in the match, so that was to be expected. Enthusiasm always seemed down, even amongst those who didn't care, like myself, following a loss.

Eventually we found Pansy, Tracey, and a few other Slytherins sitting in the stands. I plopped right down next to her and opened up the beans. I grabbed a couple out and offered her the box without really looking. She took one, daintily, and ate it quickly. Tracey did the same.

I looked up at the sky and saw the yellow and blue robes circling around their ends of the pitch. I never quite understood why they flew around for a half hour before doing actually starting the match. But I suppose if I knew more about the sport I'd understand the logic for it. Of course, my staring at the sky prevented me from noticing that Theodore slipped past Millicent to take the bleacher seat next to me. She sat to his other side.

Astoria, her friend, and Blaise sat a couple of rows in front of us. I cringed a bit as Astoria feigned being cold. Well, I suppose the weather was cool enough that she could actually be cold, but she was fairly bundled up. Still, I'm sure her reaction had the desired results, as Blaise slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.

"You're going to let her do that?" Tracey asked. I noticed her eyes were locked on Blaise and my sister.

"I guess," I said with a slight shrug.

"You know he's just going to try to sleep with her and then probably never speak to her again," Tracey said. That was his track record. He always focused on younger girls, and had since his third year.

He'd usually focused on Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I was amazed that any girl actually talked to him, what with his reputation. But he must have been really charming as it never seemed to take him very long. I wasn't particularly pleased that it was starting to look like my sister would be one of his early Slytherin conquests. I wondered how many crying Puffs and Claws had comforted crying friends thinking they could be the one who changed him.

"Yea, but what am I going to do?" I asked. Certainly nothing was sticking out in my head. At least nothing that would likely change her mind.

"Let her have some fun?" Pansy suggested with a hallow laugh. I looked at her for a moment, and couldn't help but think she looked a bit down. I'd have to investigate that later.

"Tell her how he's a man whore?" Tracey suggested. I ate a few more of the beans. Chocolate and Peanut Butter were two of the more pleasant flavors.

"That will just irritate her. And probably help him," I said.

"Doesn't Astoria listen to you?" Theodore asked. I'd forgotten he was there. I looked over at him as the other three girls laughed in unison. He was leaning forward a bit on the seat and looking at me.

"Not unless she wants free homework advice," I responded. I offered him a bean just to be nice. He took one. And to my immense satisfaction, spit it out almost immediately.

"Oh," he said. "Aren't siblings supposed to trust the advice of the older one?"

"No," I laughed this time. "Just about the only things Astoria really trusts me on would be baking and transfiguration."

"I see. So really you just need a way to get his attentions off of your sister?" Theodore asked.

"Only if she wants to lose her virginity before her sister," Tracey laughed. Pansy's voice joined hers. I felt the blood rising to my cheeks and looked away from the two of them. Teddy was surveying me a bit more than I'd have liked. He had a silly smirk on his face as his eyes shifted up and down my body. Thanks for that, Tracey.

"Well it shouldn't be that hard really. I mean I can just make sure that she knows of some of Blaises's other conquests. And perhaps some of the things he's said about her," Theodore said knowingly. He looked toward where Blaise was rubbing Astoria's back.

"And just what has he said about her?" I asked. Part of me suspected that I really didn't want to know whatever the boy had said about my baby sister.

"Nothing to me," Theodore admitted. "But Astoria doesn't need to know that."

"I see. And you'd just go and sabotage your friend's conquest? Isn't there some man-code that's against that?" I asked. I pretended that I wasn't paying that close of attention to the conversation by acting like I was watching the match.

"I've always been closer friends with Draco than Blaise. Besides, after Slughorn he could use being knocked down a peg," Theodore said. And I couldn't help but agree with him a bit. Blaise had been acting a bit haughtier than usual this year. And it had happened almost immediately after he'd gotten the invites to Slughorn's parties.

"But still, you'd sabotage him?" I laughed quietly as Ravenclaw scored a goal. There was a loud cheer from the blue and silver contingent at the match. But our area remained mostly passive.

"Always willing to do a favor for a friend," Theodore smiled. He put the emphasis on favor. And he reached out and put his hand on my leg. I looked down at it, and I'm pretty sure the three girls did the same.

"Nice of you," I said dryly. I reached down and very gently, with just two of my fingers, lifted his hand off my leg and placed it back on his own. Theodore didn't seem too thrilled by that. He took a deep breath.

"Look, Daphne," he started.

"I'm not going to date you because you said some words to Astoria that may or may not prevent Blaise from fucking her," I said as bluntly as I could. Tracey and Pansy shrieked with laughter once more. Millicent frowned and glared a little bit at me.

"Daphne," he started again and I shook my head.

"No," I said sternly. He frowned and looked at me. He managed to don a rather unassuming expression that reminded me of someone. But I wasn't focusing enough on it to place just who he reminded me of.

"I was just hoping you could help me with the Transfiguration homework. I'm stuck on the third theory of transmutation," he blushed. And then after a moment he added. "And maybe the Herbology too. Draco is useless and the damn plant is hard to combat by myself." He looked away. Pansy scoffed at his comments about Draco. That theory was new for us, and dealt mostly with transfiguring liquids to solids. It was borderline transmutation, and probably as advanced of magic as we'd get that year, if not in our entire school career.

"What's up with that?" I asked. I wasn't as upset as I probably should have been for snapping at him. Thankfully, he didn't put his hand back on my leg. I also noticed that he was sitting as far away from me as he could manage. Which on the Hogwarts bleachers was a bit of a surprise as typically we were pretty jammed in.

"I just don't quite get the specifics of it yet," he said. It was a valid question. I'm sure very few people in the class understood all the specifics of it yet. I was still fuzzy on a few places of it, but thought I had it pretty much down. McGonagall planned on spending most of the next class on it.

"Well, it's not that complicated, it just states that-" I started, but he interrupted me a moment later.

"Later, Daphne," he laughed. "If you explain it now without my notes I'll just forget it all anyway." That was probably a valid excuse. Still, I loved to explain things about Transfiguration. I'd have probably done it twice without complaint.

"Oh, okay," I sighed as a Hufflepuff chaser scored. He waited for crowd to quiet down before he spoke again.

"And I was debating with Tracey earlier, Daphne. Do you like horseback riding?" I blinked and turned to Tracey. She just shrugged a bit and resumed talking to Pansy.

"I've never been," I said. I was the city girl, after all. You know, the oddball that got taunted for wearing a Muggle outfit most weekends and grew up entirely in London. Of course I think I was probably the only one in my year with parents who didn't own an estate dating back to the sixteenth century.

"Well you should try it," Theodore said. I shrugged. I had about as much interest in horseback racing as I suspect he had in ballet. But then I remembered something.

"Millicent loves horses," I said. "And I'm pretty sure she goes riding all the time." She'd even invited me one summer. I'd passed, mostly because I was a bit intimidated by the large beasts. And no, it didn't matter that looked remarkably docile.

"Really?" Theodore asked, turning his attention to Millicent briefly. I took the opportunity to tilt myself to the side and join in Tracey and Pansy's conversation. When Theodore turned his attention back to me he would only see my back.

"Yes," I heard Millicent say. Her voice was a little higher than usual and I recognized the tone as one that typically came out when she was nervous.

"So you and Draco aren't doing so well," Tracey commented, I suspected for my benefit.

"I wouldn't say that," Pansy said. "I mean things are great when he's around. But that's less and less and less lately. I mean even this morning. He was supposed to come to the game with me. He'd talked about it all week. And then when I wake up this morning he's just gone."

"That sucks," I said. I certainly wasn't the best at relationship advice. And so far my only thought was pretty much that she should stop sleeping with him until he was a better boyfriend. But I'll admit I had no idea if that would actually work.

"Uh-huh," Pansy lamented.

"What's he doing, anyway?" Tracey asked. "He's barely around after classes. And he's really not putting that much effort into his classes. At least from what I can tell."

"He's still doing all his homework and stuff," Pansy said. "We do a lot of it in the library. I'm not sure why he doesn't want to be in the common room as much. And we still do our usual nightly patrols." Tracey rolled her eyes at that. We both suspected their nightly patrols consisted of ducking into closets and making out.

"So he's just not paying attention to you or what?" I asked. It came out more bluntly than I'd have liked, but Pansy didn't appear to notice.

"Kind of," she said. "I mean he's still always thrilled to see me. And he's still awesome with me. But then sometimes he's just gone. And I'm not sure where he is. And if I look for him I can never find him. And I feel like he's keeping something from me." She just kept listing things. I nodded along. Tracey made a small noise that indicated she was listening while she stared at the game above us. She also reached out and gestured for my every flavored beans. I handed them to her. She and Pansy each took a few.

"Well is he doing anything unusual?" Tracey asked.

"Aside from making me feel like he's hiding something, no," Pansy admitted.

"Nothing at all?" I asked. I had to admit. I was rather curious, as the two of them had been almost inseparable since the beginning of third year. I was more interested in hearing about trouble in the fantasy-land that was Draco and Pansy than I was in hearing about their latest exploits in bed.

"Well he's reading all sorts of strange books. I don't think he's sleeping as much. He always seems to be awake and tired," Pansy said with a loud sigh.

"What kind of books?" Tracey asked.

"Strange enchanting tomes. And all sorts of magical craftsman stuff. When I asked him about it he said it was an interesting hobby. I said he should have taken up runes."

"Sounds like it," I said. We dealt a lot with magical ways of crafting things in runes as well. Mostly because it was the best way to come up items worth putting runes on. I'm sure Granger crafted her dancing girl with magic. Enchanting was a field I didn't know as much about. It wasn't mentioned much in runes mostly because if you were going to use runes, it often meant you wouldn't need to enchant.

"Lucrative hobby too," Tracey admitted.

"Not that Draco needs money," I laughed. Pansy nodded along with me.

"Can't hurt though," she commented. Interestingly, usually most of my housemates made disdainful comments about acquiring income. As if it was something they wouldn't need to bother with. Of course, Pansy's tone was dry and indicated she didn't care particularly much either way. And I suppose the best enchanters and crafters were highly thought of. Draco certainly wouldn't hurt his name or his reputation by become a master at either art. Still, I didn't see Draco working hard enough to become a master enchanter. Perhaps Pansy was right, though, and he simply wanted a hobby.

"Guess not," Tracey scoffed. Her eyes were still on the game. She laughed a little bit and shook her head. "Ravenclaw's about to win." I looked up and could see two of the players chasing after each other.

"Well let's beat the rush out," Pansy said and stood up. And so we left the quidditch pitch. Thankfully we moved away from Theodore and Millicent as we left. They were still talking and they both looked rather happy. I smiled to myself as we slipped out of the stands.

Theodore didn't meet up with me that evening, either. So I doubted his sincerity with going over his transfiguration. Instead he spent most of the evening talking with Millicent. And the strangest bit of that? I was jealous. I'd wanted to lecture on transfiguration. I liked doing that. And I'm sure he would have smiled at me the entire time. And I like being smiled at.

Anyway, the weekend passed too quickly. And then the days back at class seemed to take forever as well. But eventually they passed by again as well. And the school year slowly started to approach its halfway point.

My classes stayed pretty much the same. I'd become a bit lazy with Transfiguration homework in the last few weeks, and probably dropped a little bit there, but I'd be able to make it up. Defense was still hit or miss, but more hit than miss lately. And then everything else was pretty much the same.

Except Herbology. I think I probably had the most improvement in Herbology. I expect because I had to pay more attention during the class thanks to my rather annoying partner. Had I cared about the class I may not have been so annoyed about having to do work. But I didn't, and taking orders from Potter during the work time wasn't really my preferred way of spending the lessons.

At the very least I hadn't thrown up again since the first time dealing with the flesh-eating plants. I came close when we had to extract the first pod. But thankfully Potter had done that bit. Of course, I'd had to squash the damn thing for the juice. And that was an altogether unpleasant experience. I'd have sworn a week later that I could still smell it on my hands, despite the fact that I was wearing gloves while I worked.

I'm probably being a bit harsh. It's not like he was mean. And frankly, he probably did more than I did. At least he did the majority of the disgusting stuff anymore. I'm not sure if he did it because he was babying me, or if he was just that assertive. But it boiled down to me being fairly annoyed when he'd say things like 'Daphne get the rat please,' or 'Daphne tie those branches together please,' or 'Daphne get the bowl ready for the pod.'

I didn't argue with him. I probably should have. Mostly I just did what he said. I mean the best thing about Herbology was that Professor Sprout typically let you leave after accomplishing whatever the class goal was. And Potter and I were getting rather efficient at dealing with the plants. Longbottom and Abbott still beat us out of the greenhouses pretty much every day. But we were typically the second group that finished.

Sometimes Potter would walk with me back to the castle. I never asked him to. But he'd just walk next to me. The first couple of times I'd tried to outpace him. But he'd kept up without even making a comment. So I'd tried walking really slowly and see if that irritated him. It didn't work.

I realized after a couple of times though, that he was still very unassuming. He'd just walk next to me. Rarely would we even talk about anything. Sometimes he'd bring up a class or homework or something. I only responded with coherent thoughts if he asked a very direct question. But like I said, we usually walked in silence.

Sometimes, too, he'd just wait outside the greenhouse until his friends finished. Once or twice I joined him. We'd just sit on one of the benches and leave when our respective house members emerged. Today I sat on one of the benches. Sometimes we took playful bets on who would emerge next. Granger and Weasley were almost always out before any of my Slytherin compatriots. But every now and then Tracey and Pansy managed to surprise us.

And it seemed like that was what Potter would like to do, as he sat next to me on the bench. At least he started talking with an attempt to negotiate terms of a bet. His first option, which was pretty much always his first option, appealed to me about as much as it usually did.

"I'm not going to let you copy my transfiguration homework, Potter," I said after he brought it up for the second time. He'd seen me reviewing my notes on the walk back from Herbology once, and apparently had forgotten about the assignment due the next day.

"Please?" he asked. I could feel him smiling at me as we sat on the bench. I just shook my head and dug through my bag. I'd been doing it since we left the Greenhouse. I didn't actually remember what I was looking for, but it was a suitable way to keep distracted.

"You'd have better luck getting me to call you by your first name," I scoffed. He laughed at my words. He'd brought it up once or twice during classes. Usually when I did something wrong, blamed it on him, and started yelling at him. Of course he made mistakes too. But I was usually the one that wound up with branches of plant trying to restrain me.

"Is that an option, Daphne?" he asked. He put the emphasis on my name, accentuating the first syllable.

"No," I said. I gave up trying to figure out what was missing from my bag and just leaned back against the bench.

"Not even if I pick Tracey and Pansy?"

"No." I tried to make my voice a bit sterner. I guess I probably shouldn't have called this wagering. Considering that everything he wanted to place on the line I simply refused. He shook his head a little bit and leaned back against the bench. I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering a bit. I wished I was better with warming charms. But I usually end up burning myself rather than heating my clothing. Once I'd pretty much torched a skirt. Thankfully, I hadn't been wearing it at the time.

"How about a kiss?" he asked after a few moments.

"Excuse me?" I blinked. I couldn't have heard him right. I turned to face him. He was blushing and looking away.

"Sorry, stupid," he mumbled quietly. I opened my mouth to chastise him even more but he continued before any sound came out. "I'm just really sick of watching Lavender and Ron and Ginny and Dean-" he kept talking, but I stopped listening.

I'd seen Weasley and Brown myself. Thomas and Weasley were a bit more discreet, but I'd stumbled upon them as well. Really, for how large the castle was, it was pretty amazing how easy it was to wander onto people making out. Nothing about either situation was really appealing. But I did know where he was coming from.

Tracey and Titus were pretty bad the year before. And Draco and Pansy this year were terrible to watch. Even Millicent and Vincent had had a little bit of a fling at the start of the year. It had lasted about three weeks. And then there was Blaise and Astoria. I hadn't wandered in on them yet, thankfully. Really, to the best of my knowledge they hadn't done anything yet. But I'd been wrong before.

"But so yea I've just felt like I'm the only one not getting kissed," he laughed. He tried to sound a bit more confident with his ending sentence. But he failed. Still I could empathize just a little bit. The only kiss I'd gotten was forced upon me and I couldn't help but be a little jealous, too.

But then I remembered last year, when he was making out with Cho Chang for pretty much the majority of the Christmas holiday. Well, I'd been told that at least. I spent the majority of the break at home with my family. Of course, I had heard about them kissing quite often when I returned to school. At least until that fight they had over Valentine's day. So it wasn't like he'd never been kissed or lived a little.

So I really just felt a little bit annoyed at him then. I mean what, did he think he was the only one in the world not with some fun companionship? I wasn't getting kissed and you didn't see me trying to wager a kiss on some silly bet.

"Then go make out with Granger," I said. I did my best to sound annoyed at his comments and his explanation.

"Ew," he laughed. I turned and looked at him.

"What's so wrong with that?" I laughed a little bit. I have to admit, I was surprised by his reaction.

"I don't see you making out with Astoria," he said. I gagged a little bit at the thought.

"We're the same gender and she's my sister," I argued, trying to sound as affronted as I could.

"Well Hermione is like my sister," he argued. I rolled my eyes.

"But she's not your sister. Give her a nice big kiss and be done with it," I teased. He shook his head.

"No. Besides I think she likes Ron. She's been very chilly toward him since he started up with Lavender," he admitted.

"So that's why she was just bossing him around all class?" I asked. She'd been pretty much screaming at Weasley over the plant for the entire time we'd been in the greenhouse.

"Yeah, probably," Potter admitted. "I bet she's not particularly happy that Sprout is sticking with the same groups. At least for this plant." The professor had been hinting that she may split up some of the groups for the second half of the year. I was rather indifferent. But Potter was proving to be a better partner than Tracey or Pansy.

"Well you could get some tension out for her," I continued to tease, referring back to he and Granger hooking up. He just shook his head.

"No. I think she was going to ask him to Slughorn's Christmas Party too," Harry sighed. I just shrugged. Professor Slughorn's parties were the talk of the school. And ever since he'd started planning his Christmas Party just about everyone had been speculating just what he'd do. I'll admit that I'd joined in that speculation as well.

Of course I'd mostly joined in the speculation when Astoria and Blaise, both of whom apparently merited invites to his weekly informal get together, were discussing the parties in general. I'd joined in purely to irritate Theodore who had been sitting nearby at the time.

I'm sure I wasn't the only member of the Slytherin house who wasn't secretly amused that both Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy weren't high up on Professor Slughorn's list of favorites. Both boys had tried to curry favor with the professor earlier in the year. But their efforts had failed.

"Well that's too bad for him then," I said.

"Oh I don't know," Harry laughed. "Anything with Professor Slughorn can be a bit tiring."

"I guess," I said. "I don't really see him much." It was a benefit of not being in potions.

"He just likes to talk about himself. It's all he does during lessons. And it's just incoherent rambling. It's like he can't even remember what he just said," Potter admitted. His voice was filled with disdain. It may have been the meanest thing I've ever heard him say about anyone.

"Astoria likes him," I commented idly. And she did. She talked about him fairly often. I mostly just overheard her in the common room. She'd garnered a couple of glares once when she'd commented that the house may be more fun if Slughorn was the head rather than Professor Snape.

"She goes to the parties?" Potter asked. I thought it an odd question as I was pretty sure he was high up on Slughorn's list of favorites. And the question stung a bit more than it probably should have. Sure, Astoria had garnered his attention somehow. Probably at the party Blaise had convinced her to go to. So Astoria became the interesting one. You know, the one with the wealthy doctor parents. It probably didn't hurt either that Astoria paid far more attention to just what mom was researching than I ever did.

"Don't you?" I asked in response.

"Not usually," he admitted. "I use quidditch practice as an excuse to get out of them."

"You must really hate Slughorn. I mean how bad can they be? Astoria says they're just dinner parties with some conversation. Professor Burbage does something similar every few months."

"Well I bet those are interesting. Probably something more than listening to the professor talk about himself. Oh and trying to curry favor with the students. In case he can get something from them, or their parents," Potter sighed.

"How would you know that?" I was actually genuinely interested in his answer. Potter didn't strike me as the type that would really notice if someone was being used. Maybe I was wrong, but he just had too much of a mellow demeanor.

"I went with Dumbledore when he recruited him," Potter said. I just looked at him. I didn't actually believe that. Perhaps the boy did lie like Draco claimed. Like what purpose would the headmaster have for having a young student accompany him? And why would he even be with the headmaster during the summer.

"Uh-huh," I said. Well perhaps uttered or grunted were better qualifiers there. But grunting is unladylike. Either way, I gazed over at him as I spoke.

"What?" He seemed to understand my skepticism.

"You expect me to believe you hang out with the headmaster over the summer?" I asked. I tried to sound snotty.

"I don't hang out with him," He responded. "He just helped get me to the Weasley's for the summer."

"And you just stopped off to see Professor Slughorn along the way?" I arched my eyebrows.

"Yes," he responded simply. I knew he was lying through his teeth. He just had to be. But he looked so startled that I didn't believe him. Why would the headmaster of Hogwarts help a student travel? I mean it's not like the Weasley's couldn't just apparate to him or something. Of course he had Muggle relatives. And I guess I didn't really know all the specifics of how that would work. But if Dumbledore spent his summers helping students go visit their friends…well that seemed like a waste of his time. Either way I decided it would be best to just change the topic.

"Weren't we attempting to wager, anyway?" I said. His face brightened for a moment, but fell seconds later.

"We were, but you just kept saying no to everything."

"Well fine. How about if I'm right, then I get to copy your defense homework on the next assignment?" I asked. It seemed like an easy enough one to me. If he agreed I'd probably cave on letting him copy Transfiguration.

"No chance," Harry said. "You won't let me copy your transfiguration there's no reason I'm letting you anywhere near Snape's homework. He'll probably assume I like stole yours and give me detention for the rest of my life."

"Maybe," I said. I hadn't thought about that. Professor Snape did tend to make ample corrections to everyone's work, so he probably would notice something like that almost immediately. Then again, he assigned pretty standard essays. So it wouldn't surprise me if he read essentially the same paper a whole bunch of times during his grading. And it's not like I'm not creative enough to at least attempt to implement some of my own diction into the work.

"So try again," he said after a few moments. "Since my options haven't particularly appealed to you."

"Fine. If I'm right, then you have to go to one of Professor Burbage's dinners," I said. That seemed like a pretty good bet. And Professor Burbage's dinners were always a very good time. I'm sure he'd enjoy himself. Of course, part of me wondered why I cared whether or not he enjoyed himself. I picked that condition purely because the professor always loved when new students showed up to the posted events.

"Okay," he said. "But I want Pansy and Tracey this time."

"Fine." Pansy and Tracey almost never beat Granger and Weasley out of the Greenhouse, so I jumped at the thought of not betting on my housemates. Of course, it seemed a little odd that Potter would throw away a win so easily. Perhaps he actually had some interest in the Muggle Studies parties. Professor Burbage would be thrilled at that!

"So what do I get then?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know, come up with something," I responded. I shifted my gaze back to the greenhouse. It felt like we'd been sitting there for longer than normal. So far, only some Ravenclaws and pair of Hufflepuffs had emerged.

"I already did! You shot both down!" he argued.

"So come up with something better!" I countered. He made a frustrated noise and leaned back against the bench. We were silent for a few more moments, and right when he opened his mouth to speak, the greenhouse door opened. I leaned forward to see who would emerge.

And much to my delight it was Tracey and Pansy emerged from the Greenhouse.

"Ha!" I laughed a little bit, but then Potter smirked.

"I win," he said, laughing a little bit as well. I'd forgotten he had the snakes in this little bet.

"Damn it," I scoffed. I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. He stood as well. I'm not sure if he was being polite, or if he intended to follow three Slytherin girls back to their common room. For his sake, I hoped he was simply being polite.

"So what do I win?"

"I don't know, you didn't come up with anything," I said. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at me. I noticed Tracey and Pansy were walking toward us. They weren't really paying attention to Potter and I, instead it looked like they were complaining about the stupid plants.

"Oh come on." He smiled at me.

"Well this is what happens when you're incapable of coming up with a proper deal," I said with a knowing nod. I looked back toward the Greenhouse as the door opened again. This time Draco and Theodore emerged. Draco stalked off fairly quickly. But Theodore wandered toward Tracey and Pansy. Both of whom ignored Draco as he stepped past them. I took a step past Harry as he spoke.

"I guess," was all he uttered. But I wasn't paying that close of attention to him. I noticed Theodore's eyes on me. I smirked a bit. I'm not sure what made me do it. But the idea that popped in my head was simply too good to pass up on. I made sure he was looking at me. I let my smirk shift into a practiced smile, doing all I could to make it seem like my face lit up. A close friend could have recognized that it was all fake, all an act. But Theodore wasn't that close of a friend.

"Well I suppose you came up with one acceptable thing," I said. I only spoke so Theodore could see I was talking. So deep down he would know that my face hadn't lit up at seeing him. But instead at whatever Harry Potter said to me before.

"What?" Harry asked. I think he was actually asking for me to repeat myself, and not for whatever I had come up with as acceptable. I took another step past him. But then I paused for a moment and spun around.

Harry Potter looked curiously at me. His head was tilted just a little bit to the side and he glasses were slipping off his face very slowly. He had his easy smile on his face, and his green eyes were very bright as he looked at me. He didn't suspect a thing. I took a deep breath and told myself to not chicken out. That it wasn't really that big of a deal. And that it could work out perfectly.

I took two quick steps back toward Potter. He just kept looking at me. I stared up at him for just a moment. Astoria was right, he had grown a few inches in the last year. He was actually taller than me. I hadn't remembered that from previous years. Of course, I hadn't really paid attention to that in previous years, either. And frankly, I hadn't grown since like third year.

Oh for heaven's sake just do it Daphne! I scolded myself. And I closed the last little gap between us before leaning up on my tip toes. I wobbled a little bit, what can I say, my Pointe work was better when I was ten. And then I brushed my lips against his cheek before lightly pressing them against the corner of his mouth.

Potter didn't move. I let myself fall back onto my feet before turning away from him and walking to join my friends. Both Tracey and Pansy were staring at me. They each had a certain bemused expression. Theodore, standing a few steps behind them, had stopped walking and was just looking at me. He looked hurt. I looked away from him as I fell into step with the other two girls. I felt a bit bad for Theodore. But I hoped it would have some affect on his pursuit of me. Perhaps he'd get the message.

On the flip side, though. I was rather amused by the fact that neither Theodore or Potter moved while I walked away with Pansy and Tracey. The girls didn't say anything. But I knew I'd have a few questions to answer when they knew we were completely alone.

Author's note: Kind of a bit of a filler chapter. It was written backwards and I'm not sure I like the flow. But I'm never going to finish this story if I get too nit-picky. So here it is and I'm moving on to the next part. This chapter marks about the halfway point of my plan. And the Harry/Daphne interaction is going to kick up very shortly, for what that's worth.

Also I finished the opening chapter of a new Harry/Fleur story which should be posted within the next couple of days.

As always, the best way to contact me is via a private message on the site. I do try to respond to all of them. Thank you for reading and reviewing, I appreciate all of the support I receive.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements: Alpha-Alliera, Bird875 for the beta work.

Chapter 8

"So you just kissed Harry Potter," Pansy Parkinson said as I stepped up next to her.

"Not really," I responded carefully.

"Yes really," Tracey Davis said. She sounded a bit sterner than Pansy. And her expression looked a bit more perturbed than Pansy's. Really, Pansy just looked amused, with a silly little smile on her face.

"Well I guess," I said quietly. "But I didn't, like, do it to kiss him. I did it to get Theodore off my back."

"I don't think that will work," Pansy laughed.

"Well he stopped staring at me when I did it," I argued as we approached the entrance to the castle. The doors opened for us and we stepped inside.

"You could just tell him you aren't interested," Tracey commented. I laughed a bit and shook my head.

"Tried that, didn't work. Even slapped him when he kissed me."

"Theodore kissed you?" Pansy asked. She tilted her head and looked at me curiously as she spoke. I nodded a bit as our small gaggle moved toward the Great Hall. Apparently we were going for lunch. That was fine by me. I'd taken Pomfrey's advice and stopped eating breakfast on days where I had Herbology. And I was going to reward myself with at least half of a club sandwich.

"Yes," I responded simply as I took my usual seat at the Slytherin table. I watched some other students filter in before reaching and taking half of a sandwich off a nearby plate. I proceeded to eat the sandwich by picking it apart and eating it piece by piece.

"And so why would you even want to consider kissing Potter?" Tracey asked. She took a plate of salad and was picking at it. I couldn't help but take a moment to wonder if she even weighed seven stones. Of course, I was right around eight, so perhaps I shouldn't comment.

"Mostly because I don't really want to be kissing Theodore," I said quietly as I ate a tomato. I'd have thought that much was obvious, but I didn't bother saying that to my friends.

"I can't imagine why not," Pansy laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"Sure you can. He's too short, and too scrawny," I laughed.

"He's not that much smaller than Draco," Pansy countered.

"But he's smaller than Draco," I responded. "Speaking of which, tell him to eat a sandwich or something, he's looking scrawny this year."

"I know," Pansy sighed. "I'm not sure why he insists on skipping either breakfast or lunch most days. He could really use a nice big meal."

"Three a day would be better," I laughed. Pansy just rolled her eyes at me.

"Potter isn't any bigger," Tracey commented.

"Sure he is, he's got at least four inches on Theodore, and there's some sort of definition in his arms," I argued. It occurred to me I was defending Harry Potter against a one of my housemates. I shrugged the thought out of my head and went back to debating with my friends.

"So if Theodore is too skinny for you, are you more interested in like Vincent or Gregory?" Pansy asked, looking at me curiously.

"Ew, No," I said. I took a moment to look around, and found myself thankful that neither boy was at the table. It was always easier to not upset your housemates, even if you didn't particularly care about their opinion on the matter.

"Well what is your type then?" Tracey laughed. I shrugged and thought about it for a few moments.

"Taller than me for sure. In shape is a big plus. They can't be fat. Other than that I'm not particularly picky," I said. Tracey and Pansy laughed quietly and looked knowingly at each other.

"So, like, who'd be perfect, just looks wise?" Pansy asked. I thought about it for a few moments before formulating my response.

"That seventh-year Gryffindor. The tall blonde one."

"Cormac McLaggen?" Tracey asked. I shrugged a bit.

"I don't know his name, but sure," I said.

"You like those Gryffindor's, don't you?" Pansy said. I could hear the teasing tone in her voice, but I still felt the need to defend myself.

"No. I think McLaggen is a prick, but you just asked for body type and looks," I responded and ate a piece of turkey.

"So Slytherin wise then, who's your pick?" Pansy asked. She exchanged a quick glance with Tracey and I felt like there was something going on between them. I eyed them carefully, half expecting my answer to the question would have some extraneous meaning.

"I don't know. Probably like Titus Button," I admitted. I didn't really like him either, but I remembered how nice he looked with his shirt off at that pool earlier in the summer. And I had to admit he was pretty high on the list.

"Ha!" Tracey exclaimed.

"Figures," Pansy scoffed. She stabbed her food angrily with her fork.

"Tracey wins?" I laughed.

"Yes she does!" Tracey giggled. I rolled my eyes at the use of the third person.

"And what was the bet?" I asked.

"Who has the hotter boyfriend," Pansy responded. She was still stabbing at her food. Which really seemed like a waste of perfectly good food. Of course, it wasn't like the elves would ever allow for a food shortage or anything.

"Didn't Titus break up with Tracey?" I asked. I distinctly remembered lots of crying, and lots of cursing, of the former Slytherin beater.

"He stopped by over the summer and we made up," Tracey responded. I looked at her for a moment. I had a very hard time believing she would get back together with him. Especially after all of the things I'd heard her say about him.

"They had a couple of _very_ romantic evenings," Pansy said knowingly. She put extra emphasis on the word very. I had to stifle a gag. Tracey never struck me as someone to do something that rash. And it wasn't like she didn't know that Titus's reputation was every bit as bad as Blaise's. Well, probably worse, as he didn't just prey on younger girls. Then again, I'm not sure if that's better or worse, the more that I think about it. I mean, obviously, since he'd been with Tracey, he certainly didn't shy away from girls younger than himself. But he'd date just about anyone that would look at him long enough.

"And how was that?" I asked. Mostly to give myself some more time to think while they talked. I knew she'd tell some story and I'd have time to not pay attention. But where was I? Oh yea, Titus Button. I didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd hit on me over the summer. It wasn't like she'd believe me anyway. At least in her shoes I wouldn't. I mean if she was sitting there, and I was discussing a romantic evening with Harry Potter and she came out with, 'oh I ran into Potter at a swimming pool and he hit on me,' I'd just assume that she was trying to irritate me. Or make me jealous. Or just being a super bitch for no apparent reason.

"Oh it was wonderful," Tracey laughed. "Do you want to hear about it?" The honest answer was no. But if I could keep them talking, there was less of a chance they'd bring up Theodore again.

"Sure," I responded.

"Oooh, It's a great story!" Pansy interrupted. I just nodded. I wasn't really listening. I was bothered by something. But I couldn't quite place it. I had that strange feeling you get when you just thought something, and it seemed just wrong, or off, but you couldn't quite remember what you were thinking. And because of that you then couldn't remember just what about it seemed wrong or off. That made more sense in my head.

Anyway, my thoughts were interrupted as Tracey started talking. I know I'd said that I didn't really want to hear it. And honestly, I didn't. But who can resist a nice juicy story! I know I couldn't.

"Well after the draft he came up to Birmingham," Tracey started. I smirked a little bit to myself at the opening comment. Yes, I was amused that all of this happened after he'd flirted with me. I know it didn't matter. And that's petty of me, yes, but I didn't care.

"Go Bats," I said dryly as Tracey paused. She just smiled a little bit.

"He's certainly having a fantastic start to the year," Pansy said. I had no idea if her statement was accurate or not. But of the three of us she paid the most attention to professional quidditch. Even if that was just because Draco, Theodore, Vincent, and Gregory talked about it constantly.

"Yes he is," Tracey affirmed. "But anyway, he came up right after the draft. And somehow he talked my parents into letting me out of the house for an evening. They always did like him."

"Your summers really have to suck," Pansy said. I knew Tracey's parents were a bit old-fashioned. Well, I'd probably call them nuts. They still had the notion that she wasn't 'out' in society yet. And as such she wasn't really allowed out of the house, without parental supervision, I honestly couldn't imagine it. And considering how little I got out, that was saying something.

"They do, but that's not the point. I was in my room and Mom came up and told me to put on a nice dress. I picked out that pale blue one I have. Very summery, you know? Anyway, I'm confused. And she tells me Titus is here. And I get so angry. Because, well, you know. But she calms me down and explains how charming he was being. And how he wanted to apologize to me and all that," Tracey finally actually got started telling the story. I nodded along with her words.

"And did he?" I asked. Titus didn't strike me as the apologetic type. The cynic in me could already see where this story was going. But at least Tracey seemed happy. For now.

"He did! And then he took me out to dinner at this incredibly fancy restaurant. And it was delicious. And he even got them to serve us a bottle or two of wine," she continued. She was beaming. She'd stopped eating her food, but then again, she never ate more than a few bites of whatever she took.

"Yummy," I stated. I could have gone for a glass or three of wine myself. And it was just barely lunch time. Part of me suspected I was going to be a bit of a lush when I was finally old enough to drink. My parents let both Astoria and I have some alcohol on holidays. And I thought it was all pretty delicious.

"So anyway, after that, he started to walk me home. And it was such a nice night out so we stopped by a park instead. And we sat on a bench and he kissed me. And I'd forgotten how good of a kisser he was. But eventually, he asked if I wanted to go back to his hotel. And I did. So he took me there. And well, you know," Tracey blushed a bit as she finished. I nodded. I could assume what happened the rest of the evening. I was a bit surprised that her parents let her out for the entire night. I had to wonder just what Titus had told them.

"Sounds nice," I said. Pansy giggled a bit.

"Sounds much better than nice. And now you're the only virgin in the dorm," Pansy teased. I blushed and looked away.

"Millicent," I said.

"Had a bit too much Firewhiskey with Vincent after the examinations last year," Pansy said knowingly. I knew they'd been close for a couple of days. But she hadn't told me about that. I frowned a bit.

"Well good for her," I said snottily. Both my friends just laughed so I tried to get their minds back on the story. "And your parents let you spend the whole night out?"

"Oh no," Tracey laughed. "I came home around one. I apologized profusely and lied about how long dinner took. And then said we'd just spent a few hours in the park. They were perfectly clueless."

"Smart move."

"Very," Pansy laughed. "They would approve of Titus, though, don't you think?"

"Well he's a Pureblood, so sure. He's not as wealthy as they like, though. And I think he's got a squib heavy side of the family. So you have to take that into account. I mean you wouldn't want any chance that your kids wouldn't be magical," Tracey let her voice trail off. Like she couldn't imagine the possibility, and didn't know what she'd do in that situation.

"Totally," Pansy agreed.

"I guess," I said. I probably should have put a bit more conviction into my voice. But I'd hadn't thought about having kids since I stopped playing with dolls. Frankly, the thought of having kids scared me. And they certainly weren't high up on my priority list.

"But anyway, he's going to be wealthy if he doesn't get hurt. And his family does have a fairly distinguished history. I think they suspect I could do better. But they know I could do a lot worse, too." Tracey sighed a bit, longingly.

"So you and he are back together then," I said. It was probably a stupid question considering the story I'd just had. But you can never know.

"Oh yes," Tracey responded, happily.

"Letters?" I asked. I know she received quite a few. But her parents liked to write. At least far more than mine did. Of course, I suspected they'd respond if I bothered to write. Which reminded me, I should probably write to them so we could solidify our holiday plans. I'd have to circle up with Astoria, too, to see what days we'd go home for the holiday. The winter break usually started just a few days before Christmas, and then went for two weeks. It was kind of nice to have the week after New Years off.

The school itself stayed open during the holidays, naturally. Usually Astoria and I only stayed home for about a week. After that Mom or Dad would take us back to the school. We were both pretty terrible at doing our assignments at home, so it was probably for the best that we didn't spend the entire holiday there.

"Yes," Tracey said. "He writes me one every couple of weeks. But he's so busy with Quidditch that it's hard for him to find the time." She sighed again as she spoke. I struggled to not gag on my Pumpkin juice. And then wondered why I'd decided on Pumpkin Juice when some Earl Grey was readily available. Oh well, it was a nice change of pace.

"I bet he is," I responded flatly. I did my best to not sound sarcastic. But, judging from the looks the other girls gave me, I didn't succeed. We'd all finished our food then and left the hall, moving back toward the dungeons. I was debating what homework I would work on before my next class as Pansy spoke.

"So Theodore is just completely out then?" Pansy said. I shrugged a little bit.

"I don't know. I'm not really interested in him," I tried to think of how I wanted to word my next comments when Tracey interrupted me.

"Yes, we understand he isn't pretty enough for you," Tracey teased.

"It's not just that!" I tried to defend myself. "He just doesn't do himself any favors. There's always this sense that I should just listen to him and be thrilled to be around him." I flailed my arms a bit. I couldn't quite express what I wanted to. But the girls just laughed, so I went with it.

"We'll just stick with not pretty enough," Pansy said. I sighed and figured it was best to not argue any more than I already had.

"Okay, but why are we talking about this?" I asked.

"Well you did just kiss Potter," Tracey responded as if that answered any question. But it didn't particularly help me. Because I'd already explained the reasoning behind that. So I was pretty sure they were just giving me crap now.

"Barely! I've given you and Pansy more steamy kisses than that!" I laughed. I mean, really, I'd barely touched my lips to his cheek! Both girls laughed with me, though, so that had to be a good sign.

"Oh I don't know. You were much closer to his lips than you've ever been ours!" Tracey teased.

"Yea, well, anyway. So what's the point of all of this?" I asked again. I hoped I wouldn't have to ask three times.

"We need to get you laid," Pansy said knowingly.

"Yep," Tracey added. I just blushed. I'd have sworn the temperature in the dungeons rose by about ten degrees.

"Uh, okay," I said stupidly. They just laughed.

"You'll love it!" Tracey giggled. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm sure I will," I said quietly. I could feel that I was still blushing.

"Oh yes," Pansy giggled as well.

"Still not seeing how this is relevant," I said.

"We want to play matchmaker," Pansy responded. I rolled my eyes.

"There's really no need for that," I laughed.

"Disagree," Pansy said.

"Well don't look too hard. All the good ones are already taken, anyway," I said. I intended for it to be a compliment to the two of them. And judging from the haughty smiles it probably worked.

"We'll see what we can come up with," Tracey said. I just shook my head.

"Please don't bother. I'm so damn busy with class that I barely have time to sleep and eat. The last thing I need is to entertain a boyfriend as well," I argued. And really, it was the truth. All I'd been doing this year was class, reading, homework, and eating. I really shouldn't have taken six classes.

"That's half the problem," Tracey stated, frowning and crossing her arms.

"Oh?"

"Yes, you're working too much. You're not as fun when you're stressed." Pansy nodded knowingly as she spoke.

"Yes well," was my intellectual defense.

"So we're going to fix that," Tracey said. I just rolled my eyes as we entered the common room.

"Well don't try too hard," I said. They both just laughed.

"We'll see," Pansy said. I just shook my head and wandered toward the dormitory. Part of me was rather amused by the thought that they were going to put forth any effort into it. Of course, they were both only in five classes, and had considerably more free time than I did. Still, the other part of me didn't want to see what they'd come up with.

I wasn't kidding. I barely had any free time this year as was. And I really didn't want to spend what little of it I had with some boy I barely knew. I'd much rather do the things I enjoy than cozy up to someone. I know that's probably anti-social and stupid of me. But it was the truth.

I mean I knew their options would be in our house. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But there were only two seventh year boys, and both of them were taken. And none of the fifth year boys were attractive. But again, there weren't many options there either. And I think the only one that was really worth the time of day was dating a Ravenclaw. Or at least he had been at some point last year. I vaguely remember either Astoria or Tracey talking about it.

Either way I grabbed my books and proceeded to class. Somewhere in monotony time sped past. Thankfully, no one really brought up the fact that my lips had touched part of Harry Potter. And I saw considerably less of Theodore. So that was mission accomplished.

Really, though it was amazing how fast the time passed when you didn't think about it. I would have sworn that one day, I was making a playful bet with Potter just outside the greenhouses. The next thing I knew, we were pretty much done with the plant project, and it was almost Christmas.

Of course, that just meant that while I should have been listening to McGonagall lecture on transfiguration I was instead staring out the window at the falling snow and wondering what I should put on my Christmas list. Typically I just asked for clothes. Or new books. Mom kept up more with the new fiction than I did, so she was pretty good at passing stuff on to me. They'd always get me a piece of jewelry too. Typically they just asked what type I'd like that year. I was leaning toward a bracelet, but earrings were also an interesting option. Leg warmers would be nice too. I missed those. Yes, I really am this lame.

I turned away from the window, mostly so I'd be less likely to get randomly called on. McGonagall liked to do that when she suspected you weren't paying attention. Mostly you learned to daydream while paying attention. Or in my case, daydream while sort of paying attention while playing with a hair tie. Of course, I realized that the Professor could probably tell I wasn't paying attention. So I slid the hair tie around my wrist and focused on just daydreaming.

Of course, McGonagall hadn't randomly called on people as much in previous years. But now it was now her new favorite thing. I wasn't sure if that was because of the advanced nature of the class, or the amount of Weasley daydream potions that flooded the school.

I really should have been paying closer attention too. I mean, the lecture was actually entertaining. At least I thought so. It was all about combining your magic with another witch or wizard's to accomplish far more complex spells.

But it wasn't as easy as simply being like 'here you go, here's my magic.' That worked with some spells and enchantments. But not in this case. Instead you had to be in tune with the other wizard. And you had to be able to work in sync with them. McGonagall explained that it wasn't simply a matter of friendship or understanding, either. But that it was a matter of complete trust. You'd have to work with them completely, both assisting and working on your own end.

The Professor explained that it was the hardest bits of Transfiguration she'd ever done. There could be no second guessing when doing it. You had to understand that the other person was doing everything completely and utterly correctly. You wouldn't be able to correct their mistakes anyway. You'd have to focus on what you were doing, and let them complete whatever parts of the spell you weren't. Because if either of you made a mistake, it wouldn't work.

McGonagall talked about some spells she'd done. Including her and ten other witches and wizards transfiguring a dragon into a dog. It sounded like a pretty impressive piece of magic. I really wish I'd have been able to see that one. She brought up far more detail with that than she'd done in the past with any story and it was actually fairly interesting to listen to. Which surprised me. I didn't dislike the Transfiguration professor, but frankly, she didn't really try to be entertaining in her lectures.

Of course, it was still only enough to keep me half interested in the lecture. Instead I kept gazing around. At least until I realized she was moving on to the actual practical portion of the class.

"And this is likely what we will spend the remainder of the year on. At first this may seem like an irrelevant review for you. But I can assure you, the next string of lessons, especially those coming after your winter holiday, will be some of the most difficult you have faced in my classroom.

"I will also be able to tell if the assignment is not done properly. I will stress that the point of these assignments is to mutually transfigure something. I will be able to tell if one of you simply does the assignment. I already know all of you can complete these tasks. If I suspected you were not capable of them, then you would not be sitting in this class room right now.

"As I have mentioned, the point of these exercises is to learn to work together. Not to simply let another person do the work for you. It is of the utmost importance that you learn how to work mutually with someone. If you cannot accomplish these easier lessons, you will fail this class. And you will not be moving on in Transfiguration next year."

"Now, there are an even number of boys and girls in this class. So I will be randomly assigning partners on a roving basis. Whoever you are partnered with will not necessarily remain your partner for the duration of the semester. Before we get started, are there any questions?" I looked around the room as well. I hadn't realized that the class was split that easily. She'd assigned seats at the start of this year in that manner, though. There were rows of desks that sat two students each. Terry Boot sat next to me. Which wasn't really a bad thing, as he didn't say much, and if he did it was usually a comment on our Muggle Studies homework.

McGonagall looked around the room when she finished speaking. She certainly wasn't taking this lightly. I know had I been in detention and she looked at me like that I'd have probably been quivering in my Mary Jane's. I looked around at other students in the room. It seemed like just about everyone was setting their eyes on a potential partner. Weasley was looking longingly at Granger. Brown was looking longingly at Weasley. And Potter was gazing off into space. A vindictive, wholly Slytherin part of me wished that Weasley would be partnered with someone just awful, and that they wouldn't be able to complete the spell. McGonagall's eyes rested just off to my right, and I knew instinctively just who had the question.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" the professor asked.

"Well Professor, it says in the text that some people simply aren't computable when it comes to mutual transfiguration. Will our grades suffer from a poor partner?" she sounded legitimately concerned. And I had to admit she had a fairly good point. I certainly didn't want to sacrifice my best class from an inept partner.

"That is precisely the reason why I institute a roving system of partners, Miss Granger. However; while a maximum amount of trust is required between all partners in advanced forms of group transfiguration, for our purposes you are all skilled enough to complete the tasks.

"For these assignments, compatibility, as you said, is not going to be a particularly problem. As was stated, I will be able to determine who did the majority of the work. Your goal here is to each complete half of the transfiguration perfectly. If you accomplish this, your grade will reflect it. If you do not, your grade will reflect that as well," Professor McGonagall responded. Her eyes shifted across a specific few students as she spoke. I'm not sure if it was a good or bad thing that she looked at me. But I had been hoping I'd be able to do most of the project, so I assumed bad.

"But professor!" Granger started to argue. But McGonagall silenced her with a glare.

"I assure you. If you perform to the best of your ability, and manage to demonstrate an understanding of the group work, your final grade will reflect that. Now if there are no other questions?" The professor didn't ask that like a question, either. There was a distinct 'you should all be getting to work' in her voice.

"Now, if there are no more questions, let us get started," McGonagall continued. She glanced around her classroom once more before waving her wand. "You have all been assigned a number. Girls, that same number is the page upon which your assignment for today's class can be found. Boys, find your partners and begin." I glanced down at the table when McGonagall finished speaking. There was a glowing eighty-two next to me on the desk. Terry had a seventy-six on a paper that materialized on top of his text.

I flipped open to the text and placed it down on the desk as I flipped toward the page. Some of my hair fell across my face which obscured my view. But, on the positive side, it reminded me of the hair tie I had on my wrist. So I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and continued paging through the book.

Apparently my daily assignment was how to turn paper into decorative glass. I scanned it quickly. Professor McGonagall had skipped this chapter when actually doing the daily assignments so far this semester. So I was a little bit surprised that she'd called it a review. I pulled a sheet of paper out of my notebook and debated just what type of design I'd go for on the project. Of course, it hadn't settled in that I wouldn't be working alone on the project.

At least until a few moments later when Ronald Weasley sat next to me. I blinked at him as he slouched into the chair. He didn't look at me, but rather just stared down at the desk. At a quick glance you'd have expected someone had killed his rat. Or did he have an owl now? It was hard to keep track of everyone's pets. I was just thankful my parents hadn't brought Astoria that cat she wanted the year before. I suspect they knew I'd have been the one who wound up taking care of it, and that I wasn't particularly interested in that.

"Well," I said, mostly to get him to acknowledge me. "We have to turn a sheet of paper into a piece of decorative glass."

"Okay," he said. He still didn't look at me. But at least he was looking at the book, and he appeared to be reading. So that had to be a positive.

"We should probably figure out what we want to turn it into before we get started," I said. He looked up at me, his expression indicated he was doubting my intelligence.

"Glass." He pointed to the picture in the book.

"Yes, but see how decorative that is? With the leading and the staining and all that? I don't know if we can replicate that." The more I stared at it, I was pretty sure that I could replicate it, but it would probably take me a bit of time. And I wasn't sure how this partner stuff would work. And frankly, I hadn't seen many things to make me overly excited about working with Weasley.

"Oh," he said. Then he shrugged.

"And the text says it helps to draw it out first. And that it will help is focus on the task at hand if we have something to work with," I paraphrased the final line of the text.

"I can't draw," he said. I shrugged a bit.

"Neither can I," I lied. I wasn't great, but I doodled a bit. "But it's supposed to help. So what are we going to transfigure the paper into?" I gazed around the room and noticed that most of the class was already starting on their project. I pressed my lips together and frowned. I really didn't like falling behind. Of course, that was mostly because most professors let you leave when you finished the in class portion of the assignment.

"How about the Gryffindor crest?" he asked. Hey, at least it was an idea, and it was better than anything I'd come up with, but I still couldn't help myself.

"How about a Slytherin crest," I spat. He just looked at me as if he couldn't fathom why anyone would want to recreate a Slytherin crest.

"I don't know that one well enough to do it," he said. I'm not sure if he was admitting a fault, or looking for an excuse, but I'd have taken a bet on excuse.

"There's one on my shirt," I said, gesturing to the uniform. He took a moment to look at me, but quickly looked away.

"Well there's a Gryffindor crest on mine," he responded. I just sighed.

"Okay we'll make it into a Gryffindor crest." I drew a line down the sheet of paper and started to doodle the image of the crest on my half. The waving paws were going to be a pain, especially if I attempted to do them before he did most of the body. After a few moments of just watching he sloppily started to doodle the rest of the crest. I didn't like how his half was shaping up. But we weren't doing any magic yet, and he'd said he couldn't draw. So I didn't comment. And I was pretty sure he knew the Gryffindor crest a bit better than I did.

After a few minutes of doodling I started to feel like we were falling a bit too far behind everyone else, and I didn't feel like spending the majority of the morning on the assignment.

"Well I think we should get started," I said. He kept doodling.

"Not done," Weasley responded. His lion didn't really look anything like a lion, but I just bit my bottom lip and spoke up.

"It's good enough," I smiled. I tried to not sound condescending, but I don't think I succeeded. He glared at me a little bit. I ignored him and looked down at it while I grabbed my wand.

"Fine," he spat. I shrugged and looked at it, pointing my wand at the paper. He scrambled for his and then asked.

"How do you do it?" I figured it was a more generic you than a personal you.

"Didn't you do the reading?" Mine wasn't a generic you.

"Of course!" I could tell he was fibbing.

"Well it's the same as transfiguring something. Except you have to work around the other person. So I'll focus on the left half, you focus on the right half, and we'll see what happens?" I half asked, half ordered.

"Fine," he responded. He pulled out his own wand and pointed it at the paper. It started to change almost immediately. I watched for a moment and did the same. I closed my eyes while I focused on the spell. In my head I saw images of the paper changing into a smooth clear glass. And I saw that glass dying itself red. I saw it being split by leading, and I saw the tiger form. I always pictured the spell in my head before I let it go.

But when I finally called upon the magic, when I finally let it flow through me and into the parchment, it was different. Where it was usually light, billowy, and precise, it was instead heavy and forceful. It slammed against the parchment as if it was trying to crush it. That was the opposite of my intention. I wanted to coax it into changing, not to force it. I had better luck coaxing.

I concentrated more on the spell and eventually it hit me. I _was_ trying to coax it. But he was trying to crush it. And he was trying to crush it completely. I shifted my mental image to my half, and let my magic wash over it, before I spoke up.

"Your half, Weasley," I said snottily. He grunted, pointing his wand harder, if that was possible, at the paper.

"But you're not doing anything!" He said. I laughed.

"Uh-huh, sure, look at the thing," I said. My half was starting to take form, whereas his was crumpling up, moving toward my half.

"Oh," he said. And I felt his magic shift away from mine as his focus shifted onto his half of the object. But I could sense that the paper was moving toward my magic rather than his. I focused purely on my half, and let him focus on his. I added details and did my best to make it look like the pieces of glass I'd seen in churches and what not back in London. I'll admit I didn't have a whole lot of experience with them, but I liked to wander around the historical sites when my parents would let me.

I didn't look at his side. Well at least any more than I had to. I didn't mean to be rude, but my half looked much better. But, I think that was McGonagall's intention. I don't mean like, to make Weasley feel bad or anything, but to show just how the theories worked in reality.

I looked at it fully when I was finished with my half. He was still working on his, making it decorative, mostly, and I think trying to get it to match mine. But the entire thing looked, well, bad. Like we'd glued together to separate, but similar, pieces.

And I realized as I looked at it that it wasn't particularly either of our faults. Naturally, I thought my half looked better, but it was pretty clear we had two different ideas and they fused to one.

"That's terrible," Weasley said. I shrugged and looked around the room. It was about half empty by that point. It must have taken us a bit longer than I'd expected. I also noticed that Professor McGonagall was walking toward our desk.

"Finished?" the professor asked. She gazed down at us. Her arms were crossed.

"I think so," I said. I looked away from her and down at the transfigured glass. Part of me felt immediately self-conscious of her question. Looking down at it I felt like I could have done better.

"We're finished," Weasley said flatly as he looked around the classroom. He looked toward the general vicinity of where his friends. They'd already left. But I had no idea if they'd been partnered together. McGonagall picked up our piece of glass and examined it carefully.

"Acceptable," she said. I frowned a bit and opened my mouth to comment, but Weasley just sighed contentedly and spoke before me.

"Can we leave?" Weasley asked. Professor McGonagall just stared at him.

"Not yet, Mr. Weasley. What's wrong with this?" she asked, placing the glass down in front of us.

"Nothing?" He said. "We turned the paper into glass. Even made it pretty."

"Pretty?" Professor McGonagall asked. "I shudder to think of what you gift Miss Brown if this is your definition of pretty." I chortled a little bit under my breath, which made Weasley glare at me.

"Well it's glass," Weasley said. I realized we probably shouldn't have gone the decorative route. We should have taken the easy way out and just made a sheet of clear glass.

"But what's wrong with it?" She asked. Weasley just stared at it and I felt bad for him. But I just cowered a little bit while he started to try to figure it out. About halfway through his rambling explanation it clicked in my head.

"We didn't complete the assignment," I blurted out. Professor McGonagall looked up from Weasley and turned her gaze onto me.

"Explain," she commanded.

"The assignment was for us to turn it into a piece of glass. We turned it into two," I said. Professor McGonagall looked at me and waiting for me to extrapolate the idea. "It's clearly two separate pieces. They just wound up fused together."

"Exactly," Professor McGonagall stated. "While you completed the task assigned in the book. You did not complete it correctly. So I cannot give you anything more than acceptable for the assignment. And even that is a gift."

"I see," I said quietly. It was the lowest grade I'd received in transfiguration in a while.

"Now what did you feel when you were casting the spell?" She asked.

"Nothing," Weasley said.

"Force," I responded immediately. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Like the object was being crushed, forced to change."

"Well I was transfiguring it," Weasley said. Professor McGonagall just nodded and looked at the two of us for a moment longer.

"Alright, you are dismissed. For next class, one roll of parchment on the correct theory behind dual transfiguration, and another half of a roll on how you could have improved your performances on this assignment," the professor ordered. Weasley groaned, but after getting an acceptable I'd expected worse.

Weasley gathered up his books before walking out of the transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall looked at me for a moment longer before moving over toward other students who were finishing up with the assignment. I gathered my things and walked slowly out of the classroom.

I wound up behind Potter and his friends as they walked down the hall. I noticed again that no Slytherins bothered waiting for anyone else to walk together. But that didn't surprise me. Gryffindors were bigger on packs than we were, anyway. I couldn't help overhearing Weasley, though.

"I don't understand how you can work with her in Herbology," Weasley said loudly. Potter shrugged his shoulders.

"She's rather pleasant with me," Potter responded.

"She's just mean!" Weasley said. "And she tried to make me look stupid in front of McGonagall." I didn't think I'd done anything mean. Although I had kind of answered the questions for him. Still, he wasn't getting anywhere with his answers, so I probably got us both out of their sooner. He should have thanked me for that!

"If you say so," Potter said.

"Yes, well, how did you do?" Weasley asked.

"Fine," Potter responded.

"Exceeds Expectations is not fine," Granger said. "We shouldn't have had miss-matched wings like that. Eagle, Harry, not an owl!" She seemed a little exasperated by it. I watched Potter for a moment. His expression was fairly blank and he just nodded. I got the strangest feeling he didn't really care about the assignment.

"I guess," he said.

"Guess? Harry if we're going to be working on this all year, we're going to have to master it! There can't be guessing it needs to be right!" Granger continued. I got the strangest feeling that she'd already gone over this with him before. Of course, maybe I just attributed that to his very bored expression.

Either way, I didn't stick behind them for much longer. They were moving a bit too slowly for my tastes, so I ducked around Granger as the hallway widened. I had to slip behind a suit of armor to complete the maneuver. I was fairly impressed at my balance as I hopped around it and spun a little to keep going in the right direction.

"Oh! Hey Daphne!" I heard Potter yell from behind me. I was going to ignore him and keep on walking back to the Slytherin common room. That seemed to be the sensible thing to do. So naturally I spun around and spoke.

"Potter," I said. I stared at him for a moment and then cursed myself for not doing what I thought I was going to do. Bit annoying, really. He just kept walking toward me.

"How are you?" he asked. I stared at him and did my best to make my expression look like I was saying 'really? You stop me in the hall to ask that?' I don't know if it worked. I did notice, though, that Weasley glared at me a little bit. It probably should have bothered me. But I was a bit more perturbed by the death glare Granger was giving me. I made a mental note to avoid her in dark hallways at night.

"Fine," I said as it didn't seem like he was going to continue the conversation if I didn't speak. Stupidly, I didn't realize that I could have just turned and walked away.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"You just did," I responded.

"Can I ask you something else?" He asked, smiling a little bit.

"Fine, but only one more thing," I said. He looked at me for a moment then laughed. He must have realized he asked the same question twice and that he was lucky I decided to change my answer.

"Would you like to go to Professor Slughorn's Christmas Party with me?" He asked.

"What?" I laughed. I shook my head a bit. Had he really just asked me that?

"Uhm. It's before the break. I was trying to get out of it but it looks like I have to go. And I'm supposed to bring a date," he explained. I knew both of those already. Mostly from having to listen to Astoria prattle on. Have I mentioned I hate being the nice sister?

"Go with Granger," I said snottily.

"She has a date," Potter said.

"She does?" Weasley spat, staring across Potter and

"She does," Granger affirmed. Ron glared at her.

"With who?" Weasley roared. I'm not going to lie. I was amused.

"Cormac McLaggen," Granger spat right back. I winced a little bit at the thought of that. Then laughed quietly to myself. Granger and McLaggen? The Bookworm and the Braggart? That had 'bad Romance novel' written all over it.

"Why the hell would you go with him! He's an ass!" Ron yelled.

"Because he's attractive and asked me," Granger responded. Ron flushed deeply.

"Well fine, I hope you two have fun!" he stormed off, rushing past me. He nearly walked straight into me, but my own aforementioned grace saved me from stumbling onto my ass. But yes, it was a fairly close call.

"We will!" Granger yelled after him before she crossed her arms and stormed off the other way, leaving me standing there with Potter. I looked at him for a moment. He looked back at me. Then he shrugged and we both just started laughing.

"I bet that's fun to live with," I said as I recovered myself.

"I can't imagine Slytherin is any better. You know from what I hear, your sister is going out with Blaise, Nott wants you to go out with him. Bulstrode wants to go out with Nott. And then there's Pansy and Malfoy. Oh, and Tracey Davis brags that she's going out with some Quidditch star," Potter counted off. I took note of how he referred to most of my housemates and wondered if he even realized it.

"Well we don't usually yell and scream about it," I lied. There was always plenty of drama. Although I did like to think we kept it fairly quiet and 'in-house' but apparently I was wrong.

"So will you go to Slughorn's party with me?" he asked, making sure our conversation was back on topic. I paused, crossed my arms, and looked at him.

"Why do you want to go to Slughorn's party with me?" I asked. "I mean it sounds like you don't even want to go. And I saw how you treated Patil at the ball." Which I'm sure wasn't one of his finer nights.

"Yea that was pretty awful of me," he admitted. "But I need a date and I suspect it will be better if it's someone who's fun to talk to and doesn't just want to go with me because they suspect I'm the Chosen One." It was the first time I'd heard him mention the Prophet's rumors. I half wondered if there was any truth to them. Not enough to just come out and ask him, though.

"And how do you know I wouldn't simply want to go with you because you're the Chosen One?" I teased.

"Because judging from the expression on your face when I mentioned it, you hadn't even thought about it before," he responded.

"I see," I said. I just kept staring at him.

"I figured it could be fun," he explained. He also put his hands in his pockets and looked down. "We get along well enough in Herbology, and I thought you'd be better company than most."

"Okay," I said slowly. Potter pressed his lips together and then just shrugged.

"Forget it," he said. "I just figured it could be fun. If you don't want to it's no big deal, I'll find someone else." And he walked past me. He didn't even spare a glance back as he continued down the hall.

And I felt terrible. His tone certainly hadn't been hurtful. Nor had his words been. But I felt like I blew it. Like I just missed out on something. I knew that I did want to go to Slughorn's party. But everyone did. Well everyone except Potter, it seemed. There were far too many rumors about what all would be there to ignore it. And I knew I should probably find a way to keep an eye on Astoria. I took a deep breath and stared after him.

"Wait, Harry," I said. He turned to look at me with a bemused expression. I didn't particularly like the look.

"You called me Harry," he said. I blinked. I hadn't. I never called him Harry. As far as I was concerned his only name was Potter.

"No I didn't," I said.

"Yes you did," he responded. He was rather sure of himself. But so was I.

"No I didn't, now don't press your luck," I said. He just looked at me.

"Alright, what then, Daphne?" he asked.

"I'll go with you," I said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes," I said. "Although I don't have anything to wear and now I have to worry about that for a week, so thanks."

"I'm sure you'll look great," he laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up," I said.

"Thank you, Daphne," he responded. I just blinked at him. He just smiled back and then turned and continued to walk down the hall, no doubt planning on catching up with one of his friends. I shook my head a little bit. I guess the specific details would have to wait. I continued my own walk to the Slytherin common room.

I debated just who I'd tell first. It was an interesting list. Astoria, Tracey, and Pansy would all be jealous. Theodore too, would probably look affronted. And I'd have relished every single look.

I decided, though, that it would be best to keep it secret. Because I figured Astoria's glare when I showed up to the party she'd bragged about with Harry Potter, would be a mental image worthy of a Patronus charm.

Author's note: Next up is ch2 of T.V. Then I'll come back to this for chapter 9. Thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate it. The best way to contact me is through PM. I do try to respond to all of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements: Alpha-Alliera, Bird875 for the beta work.

Chapter 9

"Thank you so much, Daphne!" Astoria said, thanking me for about the fourth time that day as we walked down the cold, snowy street of Hogsmeade. We weren't far from where Bell had been attacked a few months ago. I hadn't gone into the town that weekend, so I hadn't heard about it until later. Even now, no one was really sure how she got her hands on a cursed necklace, and it was still a bit creepy to think about.

"Yeah, yeah," I said dryly. I wasn't going to admit to her that my reasons for accompanying her were far more selfish than I was letting on. She just assumed I was there because mom and dad told me to go. And because they gave me the spending money when we needed it. Sometimes, I'll admit, it paid to be the older sister. Of course, mom thought I was being vindictive. She'd said as much in her latest letter. But I didn't really care.

"I'm so excited!" she babbled on. "I hated not being old enough for the Yule Ball. And now I get to go to a party!" I just laughed a little bit as she kept talking. I wasn't looking forward to watching her try on countless dresses, but at least she hadn't brought her friends. Of course, I was pretty sure that meant that she'd just say how she needed more opinions on everything. And that we'd be lucky to get back to Hogwarts by dinner.

"Yea yea, well Gladrags is just up ahead," I said. Of course I knew Astoria knew that. So it was a fairly stupid comment to make. But it got her train of thought off the Yule Ball and bragging about her party date. I still hadn't told her that I'd be going. But the more she prattled on about how awesome Blaise was, I suspected she wouldn't particularly care that I was also attending the party.

"I know," she scoffed before trudging on ahead of me. She wasn't dressed for the elements. She hadn't even worn boots. Instead she just wore her uniform with a cloak over and trainers. I'm sure she was trying to show off her legs. But why and for whom were both mysteries to me. Of course, I suppose I was a bit of a rare breed. I'd rather be warm than attractive. At least when I didn't suspect anyone would be looking for me.

"Yes well, let's get inside where it isn't freezing," I complained as we walked up the path.

"Warming charm, Daph," Astoria said dryly. I frowned a bit. My warming charm had two settings, lukewarm and burn your skin off. It kind of irritated me that my fourteen year old sister was better at the spell than me. But I shook the thought out of my head and just kept walking toward the store. Still I didn't see how that would help her feet. I contented myself with the knowledge that she should have worn boots.

Astoria beat me to the entrance. And she didn't bother holding the door, or even throwing it open so it would be easier for me to walk through. I got up to the door and walked into the clothing store.

Gladrags wasn't particularly crowded. It never was, really. I suspect they never quite got the student businesses they hoped for when they opened up in Hogsmeade. I suppose it would have helped if the entire first floor wasn't simply strange socks. I mean, sure, there were some interesting options. I had both a rainbow striped pair, and a Slytherin pair. But still, with the dress code at school, how many footwear choices did they think students had?

Anyway, Astoria wasn't on the first floor. I hadn't expected her to be. The second floor contained more casual wear for girls, the third for boys, and then the fourth had the formal wear for females. Naturally, the fifth floor had men's formal wear. All pretty impressive for a little, two-story shop. I couldn't help but think of the sprawling complexes that were Muggle stores and appreciate the ability magic had for space saving.

The shop-owner smiled at me as I entered. I'd been shopping with Astoria enough that he knew us, and he knew that I was always the one who paid. So I tended to get a friendlier glance than my sister.

I didn't look at socks, though. I just walked up to the second floor. I decided to kill some time before going to check on Astoria, so I looked at a few shirts. Then a few skirts. And mostly just wandered around the entire level. I saw some things I'd consider buying if I had ample amounts of spending money. But I didn't. Especially because I was interested in picking up something for myself. So hopefully Astoria didn't just pick out the most expensive dress in the building. It wouldn't surprise me if she did. That was like her.

I took a few more moments looking at some leg warmers. They were imbued with a warming charm activated with a voice command. That seemed a little bit like cheating, but I guess that was sort of the point. I missed leg warmers. I sighed longingly before turning my gaze to the stairs.

Astoria would probably be annoyed enough by my lack of presence and helping with her dress selection. So I wandered up the next couple of floors into the rather lavish woman's formal wear department.

The floor consisted of a pretty impressive selection of magical mannequins that would pose or twirl on command. Each was dressed in a different dress, styles ranging across the floor. All you had to do was find one you liked and repeat the command on the price tag and you'd find yourself wearing it. It was all very convenient. I glanced around for Astoria, but didn't see her immediately so I wandered the floor. I laughed a little when I found her.

"Little early to be worrying about those, don't you think?" I said. She was standing in the wedding area, and was surrounded by lavish white dresses.

"They're all so pretty," she sighed. I shook my head and fingered one of the price tags, laughing a little bit.

"Far more galleons than mom and dad gave me, too," I teased. "So if you're secretly planning a wedding I suspect you'll need to save up a bit more."

"Ha-ha," she faux laughed. "I'd so be here with mom and not you if that was the case."

"What? You don't value my opinion?" I teased.

"Less than I value mom's," she responded without missing a beat.

"Understandable, I guess," I laughed. "Now let's find some more appropriate outfits for Slughorn's party."

"Fine," Astoria sighed and we moved around the floor. She stopped at every third or fourth dress and asked my opinion on it. The ones she started with were still too much for what I expected Slughorn's ball to be. She kept picking out something that would be more suited at a ball, not an informal party.

"I don't know," she said, looking in the mirror and twirling a bit. "I think this one looks fantastic." She was wearing a corseted yellow number. And she was right, it did look fantastic, but the gigantic skirts weren't going to help her cause, I didn't think.

"Yes, it looks great, but you're just going to a Christmas party, Astoria," I sighed. I was growing rather exasperated with the whole situation.

"Yeah, so?" she responded. Clearly she wasn't getting my point.

"So do you really need a ball gown?" I repeated. She just frowned.

"You're being no fun," she said after a few moments. She gave the phrase that returned her to her normal clothing. She kept weaving through the mannequins. I could only hope she was looking for something more appropriate.

"Trying to help," I responded as coldly as I could. Judging from the fact that she gave no indication she cared at all about my tone, I suspect it didn't have the desired effect.

"Not helping, though," she responded. I just rolled my eyes behind her back and stopped at a little form-fitting black number.

"Why not something like this?" I asked. She turned and looked at it for a moment, before shifting her gaze to me.

"Ew," was all she said.

"And what's wrong with it?"

"I'm going to a party, Daphne, not a funeral," she responded. I looked at it. It took me a moment to realize that her only complaint was that it was black. My first thought was simply how inappropriate the dress would be at such an event.

"You'd be the sluttiest looking girl at that funeral," I said, but we moved from the dress. Astoria chose not to comment.

"What about this one?" she asked after a couple more minutes. She was standing next to a rather nice little lime green party dress. It had black trim around the neck and a black cloth sash tied into a bow around the waist. The skirt with it was still a bit poofier, for lack of a better term, than I thought would be appropriate, but it was certainly better than the ones she'd picked out earlier.

"Try it on," I said, doing my best to smile. I was pretty sure she'd need new green shoes, too, and probably some type of jewelry, but I'd cross that bridge when it came. Astoria looked at it for a couple more seconds on the mannequin before giving it the activation phrase.

The green dress swirled around her for a few moments before the magic placed the outfit on her. She twirled a bit, knowing her I suspect to make sure she could move freely in the outfit, before she looked into a nearby mirror.

"Well what do you think?" she asked. I bit my lip and looked at her. She looked good. The dress was more form fitting on her than I'd thought it would be, but it hung to her developing curves in a nice way. I had to debate whether or not mom would let her wear the dress yet. But it wasn't really revealing. I really just didn't like the fact that my sister looked better than I did.

"You look great," I admitted, hoping she didn't notice my frown. Judging from her bright smile and the fact that she was totally focused on her reflection in the nearby mirror, I think it's fairly safe to say that she didn't.

"You look ravishing," the mirror added in.

"Thank you." Astoria smirked at the mirror.

"So is that the one?" I asked. I walked up behind her and looked at her in the mirror over her shoulder.

"I don't know," she sighed a bit. She also gave the phrase to wind up back in her own outfit again. "I like it, but I don't have any shoes that would match. And it's a little retro for me, I think."

"It's got black trim, Astoria," I sighed as well. "You have what, eight pairs of black heels?" I was starting to get the feeling that this day would never end. And I hadn't even bothered looking for anything for myself yet. Of course I could always wear something old. Or I could blow off Potter.

"I suppose, but I just don't think they'll match," Astoria said. She took a moment to look at the dress, even going as far as reaching out and rubbing the fabric between her fingers.

"Well, we can always look at some shoes if you like the dress," I said. Astoria just shrugged and continued walking around the floor, looking at just about every piece of clothing on the floor.

I didn't follow her this time. I just looked around for things for myself. I kept her mostly in my line-of-sight, though. And I only did that because I knew that she'd likely be annoyed if I wasn't readily available to judge whatever she decided to try on.

There wasn't much stuff that really caught my interest. Well, I shouldn't say that. There were plenty of things I'd have loved to wear. But since I was operating with a limited amount of galleons, and since this trip was planned before Potter had asked me to the party. So I'd only asked mom and dad for a small amount of money so I'd be able to get Astoria stuff when she complained. I'd have asked for more had I known I'd need a dress too!

But if I didn't let her go overboard then I'd probably be fine.

"Daphne where are you!" Astoria yelled after probably more than an hour of looking for dresses. I wasn't too far away from her, but I took longer than necessary to sneak out from behind her.

"Right here," I said quietly. She turned and looked at me. She was in a very formal big black dress but she quickly returned to her outfit and sighed.

"I think the green one may be the winner," she said.

"I agree," I responded.

"Can we look at shoes, though?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "But mom and dad didn't send me that much money. So we can't go nuts in the shoe department."

"Only need a pair," Astoria laughed. But her smile told me she enjoyed the joke. We did both love our shoes. Although I tended to be a bit more possessive of mine than she was. And I also tended to make sure mine lasted longer.

"Well grab the number off the mannequin and I'll meet you down in shoes," I smiled and moved toward the stairs. Astoria moved back to where the green dress was and took the inventory number off the tag. A few moments later she joined me in shoes. I'll admit, I really lazed out and just took a seat in one of the big chairs there and let Astoria pick out the shoes she wanted.

She went through about fifteen pairs, mostly just standard black heels, before she settled on a pair that looked like three others she had. But I wasn't going to chastise her for that. I'd done the same thing.

"These will be perfect!" she said as she walked around one of the display tables filled with shoes. I just nodded a little bit.

"Yes, they should do very nicely," I commented. And they were really a nice pair of shoes.

"And I can wear those emerald earrings mom got me for Christmas last year," Astoria smiled. I knew the pair she was talking about. Although I doubted how real the gems were. They were silver snakes that dangled down from the ears with emeralds on the end. There was a fairly popular line of house-based jewelry sold at all Gladrag's locations.

"And you'll look fantastic," I said. I even did my best to nod knowingly as I spoke. Astoria just giggled and picked out the inventory number on the shoes as well.

"I know!" she giggled and sat in one of the chairs next to me.

"You don't mind paying and stuff, right?" she asked. I noticed she checked her watch just after she asked. "I promised some friends I'd meet them at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner."

"That's fine," I sighed. Of course she did. And then made dress shopping take exactly as long as to occupy her before she was there. Anyway, I took a deep breath and said something I'd been keeping in for too long. "But I think we should probably talk before you go running off."

"About what?" Astoria asked. She tilted her head to the side and looked at me.

"Blaise," I responded.

"I was waiting for this," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes. I know exactly what you're going to say. I shouldn't date Blaise. I shouldn't hang around with him. And that you know better than me. Like you actually know better, or have any sort of experience in the matter," she said, getting progressively bitchier with every word.

"Close," I sighed. "But not quite what I was going to say." I chose to ignore her comments about my own experience.

"Then what were you going to say?" she asked.

"I just want to make sure you know about Blaise. His reputation precedes himself," I tried to say it as tactfully as possible. Part of me wished I could talk like Jane Austin. But I'm sure I failed at such subtleties.

"He says it's mostly crap," Astoria said quietly. I stared at her for a moment.

"I highly doubt that," I said. Granted, I'm sure some of the crap Blaise was blamed for wasn't his true. But I suspected most of it was.

"I'm inclined to believe him," she said. She sounded annoyingly certain of the fact too.

"Because of what he told you?" I asked. I found myself growing a bit irritated with her. But, as I'd told Tracey and Pansy, she certainly wasn't about to just listen to me. Of course, that's why I came up with this line of crap I was going to give her.

"Not quite," she said. She handed me the piece of paper that she wrote down the numbers for the shoes and dress on. I took it, folded it in half, and tucked it into my handbag.

"Well then what did he say," I asked.

"I'd rather not tell you," she said.

"Why not?" I was a little affronted. Astoria didn't usually shy away from telling me anything.

"It's a little embarrassing," she blushed. I frowned and looked at her, my stomach sinking.

"Astoria, you didn't," I gasped. She looked at me and then shook her head, laughing a little bit.

"No, I didn't," she admitted. "But about two weeks after Blaise started flirting with me I overheard he and Theodore talking in the library."

"And what did they say?" I asked.

"They were talking about some plan they had, but they didn't expand on it. So the next time I was alone with Blaise I asked him about it. He told me it was nothing, and that it was just some stupid thing he and Theodore were doing," she continued.

"But?"

"But I didn't think he was telling the truth. So sent out to the Weasley's shop for one of those minor truth potions they sell. And a few more of those daydream things, those are awesome, by the way, so thanks," she commented. I appreciated that, but would rather she stayed on topic.

"You're welcome, but what were you doing with truth potion. That's illegal, Astoria," I said.

"Illegal enough that they let those bastards sell it in their store?" I admit she probably had a point with that one. Truth potions weren't too far off of love potions. And the weaker ones could be resisted, at least if you knew you were drinking it.

"Okay fine, but what did you do then?" I asked.

"Well a few nights later he invited me to spend some time alone with him. He brought some firewhiskey. I charmed a cup so that whatever he put into mine just turned into water, and put a few drops of the potion into his and started to get him to talk," Astoria explained.

"And he said what?"

"Well he said that the only reason he was going out with me was because you can't stand him. And that you would probably try to do anything in your power to not let me go out with him," she said calmly.

"Well I dislike him, but I don't think I've tried anything in my power to get you to not see him," I said. I knew they'd been seeing each other for a little bit over a month and this was even the first I'd spoken to her about it.

"You haven't. Although I assumed you told Pansy to talk to me about him," she said. I shook my head.

"Nope, wasn't me," I admitted. She looked a little surprised, but not like she didn't believe me.

"Well, anyway, he told me that the only reason he started spending time with me was so that it would annoy you. And Theodore could then tell you that he could get Blaise to leave me alone," Astoria admitted.

"Astoria! Why the hell are you still hanging out with him!" It made Theodore's last proposal make a whole lot more sense. I bet he was just furious when he was talking to us at the quidditch match.

"Because he also admitted that he found me rather fun and that he was very glad you didn't take Theodore up on his offer because he wanted to spend a great deal more time with me," she said. I shook my head at her.

"And you believed that?" I asked.

"Not really," she admitted.

"So why are you still with him?" I asked.

"Because I conned him into telling me about his exploits. And I told him flat out I wasn't going to sleep with him until I'm good and ready. And that if he was just interested in that, he should try me back in a few years and I'd think about it. No hard feelings." She said.

"You told him that?" I said. I was fairly impressed with my sister.

"Yes," she said. "I mean really I don't even like him that much. But it just pisses off Eve to no end so." I blinked a bit. I certainly hadn't expected that from my sister. She just kept looking at me.

"And he's not trying to sleep with you?" I asked.

"I told him I wasn't going there yet. He's trying, sure, but not that hard I don't think. Really I just wanted to go to Slughorn's party. I'm not sure how it will last after that," Astoria explained. I just stood there, staring at her.

"Uhm, really?" I asked. She just nodded.

"Yes," she said. "But you're not annoyed that Theodore was just using me as a plan to get to you?"

"Uhm, a bit, but I had sort of assumed that," I said.

"What?" Astoria looked almost affronted.

"He came to me not too long ago saying he could say some things to you that would prevent you from going out with Blaise anymore," I admitted.

"Did he tell you what those things were?" Astoria asked.

"No," I admitted. "He implied he'd probably be making them up."

"He's such a prick," Astoria scoffed. "Blaise can't stand him."

"Then why did he agree to help him out?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should ask him that. So we're good here? I'm going to be late for meeting my friends," Astoria said. I was a little confused that she didn't want to talk about that more. But she'd lost interest in it.

"Yeah sure. I can pay. Have fun at your dinner. Just please, Astoria, don't do anything stupid with Blaise. He is a bit of a man whore," I said. I attempted to sound as neutral as possible. Astoria laughed a bit so I suspected that she wasn't overly offended by my words.

"I won't Daphne," she said. She was far calmer than I'd expected. But perhaps it just showed she was maturing a bit quicker than I suspected. I will admit, there were time I still pictured her as an eight year old. "And really, thanks for looking out for me a bit. Even if it took you a few months."

"Oh, ha-ha. I half expected you to yell and scream," I teased.

"I was tempted. But you should know there's always more to it in our house," she smirked a bit. "See you back at the common room, Daph." And she left me there with the bill. Which I'd expected. But still, I couldn't help but think that my younger sister had really just outsmarted me. And I wondered how often her pleas for help were simply just ways of getting whatever she wanted. I realized I probably needed to be even more on my toes while in her company.

Either way, Astoria fluttered away, no doubt off to the inn, and I took her piece of paper to cashier on the first floor. The clerk was an older man. He shared some relationship with the owner, but I'd never bothered to figure out just what that relationship was. I handed him the piece of paper and started to dig in my purse for the galleons.

"Slytherin common room?" he asked after he rung up the order.

"Please," I said.

"Twenty-seven galleons," he commented. I winced a little bit but paid the coins. Mom had only sent me thirty total. So I highly suspected that I'd have to reuse an older dress.

"More than you expected?" he laughed a bit as I paid. I didn't really like the fact that he was joking with me about money. But I didn't comment.

"Not really, I just was hoping to get something for myself, too," I admitted. "Only three galleons left, though. Will make it tough."

"Perhaps not," he said and then finished my order. I saw him summon the dress and shoes before packaging them, with magic naturally, and sending them off to the school.

"How's that? There a clearance rack I didn't notice?" I laughed. He laughed with me but shook his head.

"No, but I may be able to arrange something. It would be a bit raw, no self-repair or cleaning charms or things of that nature," he said. "But I have some things that are nearing completion and may work. If you'd like to look at them."

"I guess," I said. I gazed around and noticed that it was just myself and a couple of browsing Hufflepuffs in the store. Certainly not the busiest of days for the Gladrags empire. Perhaps I could con that into a better price. Still, I didn't think that clothing that had to be sized and changed into could possibly be less expensive than charmed ones.

"I will go gather a few up then. Tell me, what's the occasion?" the employee asked.

"What?" I responded. I hadn't really been paying attention.

"What do you need the dress for? I wasn't aware of anything going on at the school urgently. And certainly we haven't been flooded with people looking for ball attire. Although I do wish they would bring that back. It was exceptionally good for business," the old man rambled on. I decided it best to just cut him off before I received a lecture on his profit margin in the last three years.

"Professor Slughorn is having a Christmas gathering. It's formal," I responded.

"So something like you purchased for your sister?" he asked.

"I don't know. Something a little more modern I think. But sure, something like I bought for Astoria," I responded. I really didn't want this to take much longer. Really I just didn't expect I'd be able to get anything I'd like that much for three galleons.

"Well I'll see what I can come up with," he smiled at me. I just shrugged and went and sat in one of the nearby chairs. I did kind of like being waited on like this. It was certainly easier than going through everything on the floors upstairs. But part of me did feel like I was wasting his time. Still, it wasn't like I hadn't said exactly how much money I had left on me.

It took him about twenty minutes to emerge. He had the garments floating behind him as he walked up to me.

"Any of these catch your eye?" he asked. I stood and looked at them. The first was a frilly yellow number that made me want to throw up a little bit when looking at it. I'd have actually probably looked pretty good in it, but I wasn't the biggest fan of the color yellow.

The second dress was a super-formal black and white one. I actually liked it a lot more than the yellow one. But I thought it was probably a bit too formal for a Christmas party.

The third dress was green and looked like it could have been the sister dress of the one Astoria had me purchase. I liked it tremendously. But I wasn't going to show up at any sort of party in an outfit matching my sister. That would just be awkward.

The fourth dress, though was a deep violet with a built in corset. It had a flowing long skirt and looked like a perfect purple evening gown. It appeared to be silk, and it even looked like it was already my size. Needless to say, I was immediately in love. My Yule Ball shoes would even match it.

"How much is that one?" I asked, fearing the answer. He looked at the purple dress for a moment and just smiled.

"Three galleons, I suspect," he said, without looking at the price tag. I crossed my arms across my chest and looked at him.

"You're lying. It's too nice to be three galleons."

"But it is, nonetheless," he responded. He even held up the price tag, showing three galleons. But I knew that he could have changed that with magic without pretty much any sort of difficulty. And who was I to say no to such a gift? "Now shall we size it up?"

"Yes," I said. And we did. He tailored the thing just based on comparing it to me. It didn't take very long, as it wasn't that far off in the first place. And once I had it on it only took me one look in the mirror to come up with my answer.

"I'll take it," I said quietly. He just nodded as stepped back into the small changing room to put my uniform back on. When I returned with the dress we both proceeded back to the counter. I stood and walked with him. He packaged it neatly and shifted his gaze to me.

"Slytherin common room again?" he asked. I just nodded.

"Please," I said. He went through the same motions he had with Astoria's items and then, moments later, the dress disappeared. I couldn't help but wonder just how they transported everything. I suspect they used elves without letting it on. What else could travel to and from so many locations without any sort of difficulty?

"Well, three galleons," he said, and I happily handed over the last three coins I had on me.

"Thank you for your patronage, Miss Greengrass," he responded. I just nodded once more as he handed me my receipt. I tucked it into my bag and left the shop.

The town wasn't as crowded as I expected when I stepped back out into the snow. Most of the students must have finished their shopping and headed back to the school. I sighed and looked around with a smile. I was glad I'd already ordered Christmas gifts for my family members and didn't have to do any last minute shopping. So instead I just wandered back to the carriages, and by extension back to the school.

The semester ended without fanfare. But wasn't that always the case? Usually the last few days were just a drag, waiting to go home. And this year wasn't any different. Except I'd be going to a party before heading home. I was already packed and ready to go in the morning.

I still wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. Part of me thought it was going to be fun. But I also knew it was going to cause some issues. Thankfully, Draco hadn't been as annoying as in previous years. And part of me suspected he wouldn't have any clue what happened at the party, because he didn't really have any clue what happened all year. Pansy still bitched about how he wasn't paying her any attention. But as far as I saw, he wasn't paying anyone any attention.

Still, none of my girlfriends were particularly happy for me. And their reaction when I told them just who I'd be going with was, well, entertaining to say the least. Pansy had just stared blankly at me. And Tracey had looked like she wanted to throw up. It took far more talking than it should have to convince them I was just thrilled to be one of the select few that got to go to the party. Something that very few people in our house had managed.

Millicent, though, had congratulated me and told me she wished I had fun at the party. Of course, she probably was just thinking that it would help her chances with Theodore. I was rather happy that they were spending more time together. Although Theodore still stared longingly at me more than I'd like. And I did have to spend more time avoiding him in the common room than was probably necessary.

But I changed into my dress into the early evening, after spending far too long on my hair. Especially since I was just doing it up in a simple up-do. I dug my violet heels out of my trunk - they were buried far deeper than I'd have expected, but miraculously still in good shape, and put them on. They only added about an inch to my height. I also picked out a thin gold necklace and a gold bracelet to complete the ensemble.

"Very nice," the full-length mirror in the girls' dormitory said as I posed in front of it.

"I agree," Millicent commented from behind me. I smiled into the mirror.

"Thanks," I said. Millicent had been the only one of my friends willing to help me out with my makeup and dressing. And it was appreciated. Of course, perhaps less help was better. I remembered the chaos that was our dormitory while we were all dressing for the Yule ball.

"Now make sure that you tell me everything that happens," Millicent laughed.

"Oh I will. But I doubt anything interesting will happen. It will probably just be a lot of staring at Professor Slughorn and hoping he stop talking," I teased.

"And you trying to get Potter under the Mistletoe?" she teased.

"Ew," I responded with a quick shake of my head.

"Oh you're no fun. Now go get drunk on Christmas spirits or Potter will think you ditched him!" She teased. I rolled my eyes. I was intentionally late. But that was because I hadn't wanted Astoria to see me sneak away to change, or wearing a dress. I'd deal with running in to her at the party. It would be more amusing to me that way. Of course, I had to hope Potter wouldn't get sick of waiting for me and just go to the party himself.

"I will," I sighed. "I really look okay?"

"What do you care? Especially if you don't want to get anyone under the mistletoe?" Millicent teased. I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't say there wasn't anyone. Just not Potter," I laughed. Millicent laughed with me.

"Whatever you say, Daph, whatever you say. But yes, you look great. Go wow a socially inept Gryffindor with your natural charm," she said dryly.

"I'll try," I laughed.

"And be sure you come back with at least one good story!" she yelled after me as I stepped out of the dormitory and into the common room.

I did get a few stares from students enjoying their last night before the holiday as I walked through the common room. Most of the stares were from boys. A couple of them forgot to close their mouths. That was always a good feeling. The jealous stares from my friends weren't quite as good of a feeling. But I slipped into the dungeons and made my way to the Great Hall where I was supposed to meet Potter.

I complained in my head about how cold it was in the castle. But I suppose that was my own damn fault. It was always cold in the castle, I should have known better than to wear a thin silk dress. I was more jealous than I'd like to admit of the fact that Astoria's had a warming charm permanently on it. At least I hadn't started shivering by the time I arrived in the great hall.

Potter was still waiting for me. He wore a pair of black dress robes. They weren't as formal as the green ones he'd sulked around the Yule Ball in. I'd been expecting he'd reuse though. But I suppose when you grow as much as he had, you'd probably need new robes too. He looked nice, if somewhat disheveled. But I couldn't remember the last time Harry Potter didn't look somewhat disheveled. Perhaps if he'd actually bother to flatten or style his hair it would help.

"Hey Daphne," he said quietly. He was sitting on a bench against one of the walls. He looked at me for a moment, letting his eyes slide up my body. I didn't comment on that. Every now and then being leered at was fun.

"Potter," I responded. Bluntly.

"I thought you stood me up," he said.

"Oh I wouldn't do that," I said coquettishly as I tilted my head to the side. It was my best attempt at looking both seductive and adorable. Potter didn't seem fazed, though so I suspect it hadn't worked.

"Oh," he said again. But he stood and looked at me some more.

"It just took me longer to get ready than I expected," I lied. I kept looking at him, but he remained fairly passive. I mean he hadn't even said I looked nice. Talk about a deflating blow.

"Well we should get to the party," he said. I just nodded a bit.

"Yes, we should. You look nice," I offered my arm. He just looked at it for a moment, like he wasn't quite sure how to react. I realized he probably never had to escort someone to a dance before, so I lowered my arm and just moved next to him. And yes, I was fishing for a compliment. Sue me.

"Thanks," he said as we started to walk. "You do too." And then we were silent. For pretty much the entire walk to Slughorn's private offices. Which seemed odd. I mean I know Potter wasn't the most talkative kid in the school. But we'd always had pretty good back-and-fourths when were together.

"You really don't want to go to this, do you?" I asked as we approached the party noise.

"Not really," he said. "I don't like Professor Slughorn at all. There's a reason I scheduled most of our Quidditch practices to coincide with his little dinners."

"You mentioned that," I said. At least I thought he had. Maybe I'd just overheard it somewhere. "But why, I mean, he's likable enough. If a bit…" I let myself trail off, thinking of the exact word I wanted.

"Trying?" he offered. I shrugged, indicating that it was as good of a word as any and that I certainly wasn't going to argue it. "Well, you know how he's always going on about the people he knows, talking about all the perks he gets?"

"Yes. It's pretty much all he talks about," I responded. Even not being in his class I knew that much. It was a bit of a running joke amongst the students. "Well that and how much things are worth."

"Yea, well, part of me is afraid he'll just be dragging me around and talking about how he knows Harry Potter," he scoffed. It was the first time that I'd heard him really bring up the Harry Potter card. And the fact that he was famous. But his reasoning seemed logical to me. I wouldn't really want Professor Slughorn doing that to me.

"I see," I frowned. "I guess that makes sense. I certainly would be annoyed if he did that with me."

"And when you brought up Parvati I couldn't help but think perhaps I shouldn't have asked you. Because what if Slughorn doesn't leave me alone and I spend the entire night pretty much dragging you around after the professor to be introduced to all his stupid friends?" Harry ranted. I laughed a little bit.

"Well I guess then I get to meet some interesting people," I said as cheerfully as I could. It was going to be a very long night if he was already upset about what may or may not happen.

"I suppose," he said. "Parvati didn't talk to me for the rest of the year after the Yule Ball. I just don't want that to happen again."

"Don't do anything stupid and it won't," I responded in the same playful way I did to most of his comments in Herbology.

"I'll try not to," he said. We were pretty much to the door when I spoke up again.

"You know, we don't have to go in," I said. He just looked at me, stunned. I couldn't really believe I said it either, considering my entire purpose for agreeing to go to the ball was to irritate my sister.

"What?" he asked.

"We can like, sneak off to Hogsmeade or something," I suggested. He just shook his head.

"Probably get in heaps of trouble if we get caught doing that," He laughed.

"Yes but everyone will be paying attention to the party and not us sneaking out," I countered. "And it's not that far of a walk to Hogsmeade!" I bet he figured I would have insisted on stealing a carriage too!

"No, it isn't," he laughed. "But for some reason I don't think that will work."

"Probably not," I sighed. "But there has to be something you'd rather do."

"Of course there is," he spoke rather quickly.

"Well let's do that instead!" I think I probably sounded more exasperated than I was.

"I'm not sure we'd be on quite the same page with what I want to do," Potter admitted. I think he'd probably be a little surprised if he bothered to speak up about just what he wanted to do. Although I probably wouldn't follow him into an empty classroom or anything at this point. At least not without some begging.

"Won't know until you ask," I responded, tilting my head to the side and looking up at him.

"Maybe later?" he blushed as he looked back at me. I liked making boys blush. It was easy and fun.

"Or maybe now, they may happen sooner that way," I teased. He shook his head, but came up with some sort of excuse.

"No, I told Professor Slughorn I'd come. So I may as well keep that promise. Maybe I can convince him to not beg me to come to every stupid event he has," Harry said. I just nodded, understanding his logic to some extent. And part of me was looking forward to the party, so I wasn't going to argue too hard against it.

"Well, let's get inside then!" I said, smiling fully at him and doing my best to maintain a completely playful demeanor. I was starting to think that this could really be a fun night. He nodded and opened the door and we walked in together.

Inside it was every bit as extravagant as one would expect. The entire, obviously magically enhanced room, was filled with people in formal outfits. And Christmas decorations hung from just about every surface. I didn't see Astoria and Blaise at first. But I didn't have much time to look at us as Professor Slughorn immediately filled my vision. He was accompanied by an old guy and a vampire. I only recognized the vampire, Sanguini I believe his name was, from an article in Witch Weekly. I had no idea who the old guy was.

"Harry my boy!" Slughorn yelled. He had his arms open and clasped Harry into a hug. Thankfully I didn't get the same treatment.

"Professor Slughorn," Harry said calmly.

"And who's this?" Slughorn asked. "She's very pretty." I blushed a little bit as he spoke.

"My date. Daphne Greengrass," he said, introducing me. I offered my hand and Slughorn took it for a moment.

"Oh yes. I believe your sister is here tonight with Mr. Zabini. Your parents are both healers, correct?" He asked.

"Yes," I responded, despite the fact that we both already knew that answer. Astoria had told me how often he talked of Dad and of Mom's magical medical research. "My father speaks very highly of you."

"And I of him I assure you," he smiled. But his expression immediately turned back to Harry. "You'll never guess who's looking forward to meeting you, Harry! I saw Potter flinch. My only thought was that maybe being a show pony on Harry Potter's arm wouldn't be that bad for the evening.

"Who's that?" Harry sighed, trying to sound nice.

"Well, judging from how much practicing you do. I think it's safe to say you're looking forward to pursing professional quidditch?" Slughorn asked. Harry laughed a little bit and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'd actually thought about becoming an Auror," Harry said. I blinked a bit at that. I'd assumed he'd be going for quidditch too. But Auror also made some sense.

"An Auror? A noble pursuit to be sure, but one that can be taken up after the Quidditch career, Harry. I know you're young, but you'd be amazed at how quickly our bodies betray us! I'd highly suggest going professional first and thinking about the ministry when you retire from that!"

"I'll think about that," Harry responded meekly. I leaned a bit closer to him to prevent Slughorn from clasping him on the back again or anything like that. I could already tell he didn't really like being touched by, or being particularly close to, the professor. "But who wants to meet me?"

"Gwenog Jones, Jason Williams and Titus Button!" Slughorn exclaimed.

"Oh right," Harry said. He seemed to think for a moment then spoke up, "The captain of the Harpies?" I got the strangest feeling he didn't recognize the other two names.

"Oh wow," I said before Slughorn could speak. Williams is having a M.V.P caliber season with the Tutshill Tornadoes, and Button is playing very well for Ballycastle." I hoped I got the teams right. Well, I knew I got Button right, but I wasn't sure where Jason Williams played.

"Yes they're all playing quite well this year!" Slughorn said. Harry spared me a quick glance. I could have been full of myself but I think he looked thankful.

"And they want to meet me?" he asked, seeming rather surprised by that.

"Of course they do! It's not often you get the chance to meet Harry Potter!" Slughorn said. "Let me find them for you, wait here!"

"Actually," I interrupted. "I'm very thirsty. I think Harry and I will go get some refreshments. They can find us later, I'm sure."

"Why yes, of course," Slughorn said. "Forgive me for not thinking to offer anything. I'll send them by your way the next time I see them."

"Alright. Thank you, professor," Harry said as I slipped away and off toward a table where food and drink was laid out. I grabbed two goblets of some drink and handed one to him before taking a sip of my own. It was delicious, fruity, and clearly alcoholic. I took another, rather large sip, and saw my goblet refilled itself. That could be dangerous.

"This stuff is good," I laughed as Harry took his first sip. He nodded a bit.

"Oh wow, yes it is," Harry laughed. "Sorry about that over there."

"Oh it's no big deal," I said. I was focused on the food on the table. It was mostly pastries and cakes and things of that nature. I gathered up a couple on a plate for the two of us. I offered it to him first, he took one and ate it. I did the same.

"This doesn't appear to be that much of a party," Harry said. I shrugged a bit.

"Sure it does," I sighed. "It's an adult party, though. Not a teenage party. They're just going to stand around and drink and talk all night. My parents host plenty of them."

"So what do we do?" he asked, frowning a bit.

"The same," I said, taking another sip of the drink. It had to be some type of mead, but I wasn't familiar enough with it to identify it.

"Sounds fun," Harry said. Judging from his words, I don't think he thought it sounded that fun.

"Could be, depending on who we hang out with," I said.

"Did you have anyone in mind?" He asked. I was gazing around the party to try to figure that out. I saw Hermione Granger appeared to be hiding from someone. She kept slipping behind a curtain and ducking into groups of people. It was actually kind of funny, in a sort of pathetic way. I mean, really, just leave if you're that annoyed by someone. I also noticed Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas were standing by adults I thought I recognized. They may have been the Weird Sisters.

I still didn't see Astoria and Blaise, and that bothered me a little bit. But I just sipped more mead and kept looking around.

"Not really," I said. "I'm sure if Slughorn is half as popular as he likes to think he is there's probably some interesting people here."

"Maybe," Harry said. He didn't sound as convinced. I kept looking around the room. I noticed Gwenog Jones a few moments later. She was talking with Ginny Weasley and the Weird Sisters. The little Weasley looked like she might faint.

"Well let's go find someone," I giggled and started walking around the room. Thankfully, Potter followed me.

"If you insist," he laughed. And so that's what we did for most of the party. After just a few moments we ran into Blaise and Astoria. She looked very nice; he looked a little drunk. Either way they seemed to be having a good time. Astoria glared at me a little bit for a couple of minutes while we pretended to exchange pleasantries. But after that she escorted Blaise to the other side of the room and kept her distance from me for the remainder of the evening.

We met some people I found interesting. But no one that Potter seemed particularly interested in talking to. So he ended up cutting most of the conversations short. I tolerated talking with a few of his housemates as a matter of good faith and because he put up with me talking to my sister. Ginny Weasley ignored me the entire time Potter spoke with Dean Thomas.

It wasn't until later in the evening that two boys approached us. I suppose I should say men, but one of them would never not be a boy to me. He spoke first.

"You're under the mistletoe," Titus Button teased. I looked up and saw that Potter and I were indeed standing under one of the many bits of mistletoe that littered the room. I turned to look at my date, but he just shifted away from it with a deep blush. I raised an eyebrow and looked more at him. I mean, come on, he'd tried to bet me to kiss him, and now had a perfectly good opportunity to try again and shifted away from it? Either way, Titus just laughed.

"You're supposed to kiss her, Potter," the other figure said.

"We're uhm," Potter started. Part of me was rather interested in hearing exactly what we were. Mostly so I could have some reason to be annoyed with him. But I saved him the misery of trying to form a sentence at that moment, purely because being mean to Titus sounded like a better idea.

"Nice to see you, too, Titus," I said. "You haven't introduced us to your friend."

"That's because we're not friends," Titus said.

"Jason Williams," the other quidditch player introduced himself. He was tall and blonde and altogether fairly attractive. He was probably a year or two older than Titus, but I didn't remember anything from his time at the school, if he even attended Hogwarts.

"Then how did he wind up as your date?" I asked. I'd seen the two of them together for a good chunk of the night. "Does Tracey know? I mean, I always knew you'd cheat on her. But I didn't realize you flew that way." Both the boys looked flustered. Potter chuckled a bit, though.

"She doesn't. We were playing each other. Somehow we wound up showing up here. I don't remember all the details," Titus said. "Please don't tell her, though."

"And why shouldn't I tell my best friend her boyfriend is gallivanting around with other men?" I asked.

"I was going to tell her," Titus blushed. And strangely, I actually believed him. "But I just got here a few hours ago. And Jason and Gwenog dragged me up here. And I really do plan on going to see her in the morning. I know she's not going home until late tomorrow and we have guest rooms so I was hoping to spend the day with her!"

"Sounds like fun, especially if she's as hot as you say. Although if I recall, you did say one of her friends was better looking," Jason Williams laughed. I blushed a bit, remember his comments from the pool over the summer.

"Yes," Titus sighed. "One of her friends is hotter than her. But apparently she has a boyfriend now too." And I blushed even more. I noticed Potter did as well.

"Well the pretty ones tend to," Jason lamented.

"Not the drunk ones at the bars though!" Titus laughed.

"Ew," I said, mostly to interrupt their conversation. I was starting to think they were closer friends than they had been letting on. I did know players on opposing teams didn't like the fraternize too much for fear of owners accusing them of collusion.

"Professor Slughorn had said you guys were interested in meeting me," Harry said. I guess it was his turn to save me from awkward conversation.

"Well it is always nice to meet prospective teammates. I must say you've impressed our General Manager at Tutshill with your play in the previous years. He was also in the stands during the first task of the tournament. He's in love with you. I suspect Tutshill will do just about anything to draft you if you decide to pursue Quidditch," Williams said. Potter looked a bit startled.

"That's an honor. Is that what you wanted to talk about?" he asked.

"Not really," Williams said. "Although you'd be surprised how much the brass tries to ask about players you may or may not have played against in school. Always looking for some sort of edge or lesser known information."

"In short, you're being scouted by both the Ballycastle Bats and Tutshill Tornadoes without even realizing it," Titus Button said.

"Oh," Harry responded. He shrugged a little bit and then asked. "And what are you going to tell them?"

"Be honest with you, all I'm getting out of this is that you didn't kiss a pretty blonde standing under mistletoe," Titus said dryly. Williams shook his head, but smiled.

"There's that," he said. "But mostly nothing. I'm here to drink and mingle. Not scout. We'll leave you two alone now."

"But they're fun to tease!" Titus whined. Williams just shook his head again. It almost seemed like he was dealing with an annoying younger brother for a moment. At least until he smirked.

"So's Gwenog. But anyway, looking for a girl to show the private room to, not someone dating Harry Potter," he laughed. I blushed even more and looked back at Potter. He looked a little bit stunned.

"So you know," I said carefully. I was trying to be as tactful as possible here. "For someone who whined about feeling like he was the only one not kissing someone. You're not taking much of your opportunity right now." I gestured up to the mistletoe.

"Oh, uhm, are you sure?" he asked. I sighed.

"If I wasn't, Potter, I'd have moved out from under the mistletoe by now," I said. He just looked at me for the briefest of moments.

But then he finally decided to act. He put his hands on my shoulders and seemed empowered when I didn't protest. He looked down into my eyes and I gazed right back. I let my lips part a little bit and waited. I wanted him to kiss me. He wasn't the only one that felt like they weren't getting any. And something about staring at him, in his formal robes, and him just holding me loosely, was, well, a bit of a turn on. I wanted him. More than I dared to admit. Every moment that it took him to lean closer to me seemed like hours. And then his lips were so close to mine. So very, very close. I lifted myself up on my toes and waited for his lips to reach mine.

But they didn't. Instead there was a commotion from the doorway. It was loud. It startled everyone in the room. I looked away in time to see Draco Malfoy being dragged by his collar by Filch. The caretaker was saying something about how he was trying to crash the party. Silly move, Draco, it wasn't much of a party. Potter held me for a moment, but his attention was focused solely on his rival. I tried to wiggle against him, to get his attention, but it didn't matter. He just kept watching Draco. His expression was unreadable. Even as Snape pulled Draco from the party.

When my head of house left, though, with Draco in tow, Potter did something I hadn't expected, and didn't believe. He let his arms slip off of me and moved to follow them. I blinked.

"Harry Potter," I said sternly. He paused for a moment and then looked back at me.

"Sorry Daphne," he said. And he looked sorry. But I didn't care so much about that. "I have to go."

"Harry Potter," I said more sternly. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. "If you leave me here to go chasing after Draco Malfoy I'm going to be very, very cross with you." I spoke as calmly as I could. I even reached out and took his hand. He looked down at it for a moment. But just a moment. I could see he'd already made up his mind.

"I'm sorry, Daphne," he said as he slid away from me. And I watched him move quickly through the crowd and disappear out the door. I can honestly admit I'd never felt that low in my life. I wanted to throw up.

I mean really. I'd been practically throwing myself at him. And he'd thought it a better idea to follow Draco Malfoy? I wanted to kill them both. I hated the rejection. I hated feeling unwanted.

And so I did the only thing I could think of. I looked around the room and I found him. I took a deep breath. It was ten steps to get to my target. It only took a few seconds for me to put my arms around him. And perhaps another second later I was kissing Jason Williams. He hesitated at first, but kissed me back after a moment or two. I simply kept kissing him. And I didn't protest when he led me out of the party.

Author's Note: And there we have it, probably about the 55-60% point of this story. I know I'm going to get flamed. But they're teenagers, and teenagers are stupid. No offense to any teenagers in the crowd.

On a different note, since two of my betas have done a disappearing act I'm again looking for a couple more people willing to do some beta work for me. As with pretty much everything, a PM is the best way to inquire about that, or get into contact with me. I try to respond to all of them.

I'm also still interested in commissioning an artist to do covers for all of my stories on this website. So if you know anyone interested, send them my way. Naturally they'd be credited and I'd do everything in my power to points others to their work.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. I do really appreciate it. I usually post what I'm going to work on next here, but that's failed pretty spectacularly so all I'll say is next I'll either do chapter 10 here, 2 of Tenebrae, or 5 of DiP.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements: Alpha-Alliera and Zaion Indulias for the beta work on this chapter. As always, all mistakes now belong entirely to them. I mean me.

Chapter 10

I didn't particularly like the headache I had the next morning. But I probably deserved it. I'm not sure how many self-replenishing cups of mead I drank the night before, but it was far too many. As usual, I was the last girl in my dormitory to get out of bed. In fairness, this time I was also the last girl to go to bed the night, well, morning, before.

I threw my blankets off and sat up. The entire dormitory spun as I did. It was going to be a long morning. Thankfully I didn't have to do much more than get myself onto the train and then nap. I put my bare feet on the ground and gazed around the dorm. I noticed my dress lazily thrown over my trunk so I reached toward my bedside table for my wand.

It took me far longer to find than it probably should have to find the stick. I groaned a little bit and remembered all of the 'don't drink and magic' lessons mom had attempted to impart on both Astoria and I. She'd gone over all the horror stories of magic gone wrong when the witch casted a spell impaired. Some of the things she claimed to have seem were completely disgusting. But I wasn't drunk, at least not anymore, just hung over.

And, to top it all off, the thought of hanging my dress and finding the proper spot for it in my trunk just hurt my head even more. So instead I just shrunk the garment and tossed it into the trunk. I'm not sure exactly where it fell to, but I could always just summon it if I needed it.

But even the simple spell took more out of me than I suspected. I put my wand down, hoping that avoiding the temptation to do more magic would prevent the room from spinning. I could tell from the clock on the wall of the dormitory that I still had a few hours before the train would leave that day so I just fell back onto my bed and sighed contentedly.

I noticed I was only wearing a pair of panties and an oversized Tutshill Tornados t-shirt. I really hoped I hadn't wandered drunkenly through the halls in the middle of the night wearing just that. But I didn't see any other evidence of other clothing, and I seriously doubted I'd been in any shape to put stuff away. Especially considering I'd just left my dress strewn about. Also, I was pretty sure I wasn't wearing a bra, which couldn't be a good sign.

Eventually, I managed to haul myself out of bed and into the shower. It was nice. The water was rather soothing. At least until I noticed that I'd left my clothing on. Oh well, a drying charm wasn't that difficult.

I stepped out of the water to strip. I'm not sure why I didn't just do it in the shower, either, but it seemed like a better idea than pulling off my clothing while in the water. The two articles weren't particularly hard to remove. But I suspected I'd have probably hurt myself had I not sat down to remove the lower bits.

Somehow, I managed to then get back into the water. I stood there, with my eyes closed, for probably much longer than was necessary. My goal was to attempt to piece together the majority of the night.

It started off fun. That much I remembered readily enough. I looked awesome in my purple dress, if I'm allowed to say so myself. And we'd walked to the party. He looked nice too, I suppose. Although he should have at least flattened his hair.

And we chatted happily enough as we wandered to the party. I don't think I said anything that would have annoyed him or upset him. Sure, I had implied we didn't have to go to the party. But he hadn't really wanted to go either. And it wasn't like I was the one coming up with an excuse. To be honest, I'd have probably been rather annoyed had he taken me up on that offer, seeing as I spent far too much time and effort getting dressed.

And even the party hadn't been that bad! Of course, we hadn't done much but wander around. I drank more of whatever that booze was then was wise. I couldn't recall if Potter had been drinking. I remembered him having a goblet. But I don't remember if he ever took a sip. Or, more importantly, if he took nearly as many sips as I did.

After that, it was just a matter of chatting with some people. And then we were under the mistletoe. And I was going to let him kiss me. And probably do a little bit more than that, depending how the rest of the night went.

But then Draco effing Malfoy was there. And for some reason Potter would have rather chase after him than touched his lips to mine? What did he suddenly think I was disgusting or something? It wasn't like I'd forgotten to brush my teeth! I'd actually done it twice before the party! My head hurt too much to really continue that line of thinking. And I wasn't in the mood to analyze everything that could have made me unattractive to a boy.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I just stood on the cold tile floor for a few moments, naked and dripping. I felt wrong. And I felt like I'd forgotten something. But I couldn't place it.

I looked in the mirror in the communal bathroom and sighed. Thankfully, it decided to not comment on my appearance. Usually the mirrors were at least polite. I liked to think it could sense my concern.

I looked normal enough. Really, I felt normal enough. Well, aside from the pounding headache, the fact that the bathroom was spinning, and that I thought I might throw up. I couldn't help but think of how glad I was to not have to go to Herbology in the morning. Hey, at least I could still joke. That had to count for something.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was just inherently wrong. I knew I wanted to be sick. But I wasn't going to be. I looked toward my clothing and looked for my wand to dry it off.

Then I remembered that I'd left my wand on my bedside table. Well, I hoped I'd left it on my bedside table. I also remembered that I'd forgotten to wash my hair. Oh well, it could be greasy today. That was fine by me.

I towel dried my hair as quickly as I could before wrapping the towel around me. Naturally, it was green and silver and even had little serpents embroidered onto the corners. When I was a first year, I thought they were cute towels. Now, I suspected they were just done that way so the elves knew where to put them back.

Thankfully, no one had ventured up to the dorm in the time I was in the shower. Judging from the look of it, they'd all taken their trunks already too. I didn't think any of my friends were staying at school for the holidays. Like me and Astoria, some of them would probably return to school before the break ended.

While we all tried to pass our parents off as old, stuck up pains in the ass, they certainly did seem to enjoy the times when we weren't at home. And were often eager to get us back to school. I really didn't want to think about what mine got up to while Astoria and I were gone.

I sat on my bed and dug through my trunk. I found some clothing. Muggle clothing, but I shrugged and got dressed. I should have probably worn a school uniform until I got on the train. That's what most students did. But I was looking forward to falling asleep on the train with my face pressed into the cold glass.

I pulled a pair of black jeans on next. And for some reason that brought my mind back to the night before.

After Potter had left I'd just walked up to Jason Williams and made out with him. Me. After scolding Astoria for having a boyfriend. Gee, what a great role model you are, Daphne. I could already hear the endless amount of shit she'd give me. I just hoped she didn't tell mom and dad. It would be enough to get a lecture from her. To get the same lecture from three different people though, that would drive me batty.

I'd only kissed Jason a couple of times. After that he'd just taken my arm and led me around the party like a bit of a trophy. I didn't mind. I really just kept drinking and drinking and drinking. And it was wonderful.

I vaguely remember meeting interesting people. But I couldn't recall just who those interesting people were. Or what was really all that interesting about them. In hindsight, I didn't care that much. But I hoped I hadn't made a spectacle of myself.

Jason led me from the party. I think Titus joined us, but I couldn't remember. We left when something came up. I can't quite recall. Something with giddy girls and a vampire taste test? I don't know. I don't think I really want to know. Jason seemed to think it was time to leave at that point. And I didn't argue.

The private rooms at Hogwarts sure were nice, too. I'd never been in one before. But it was every bit as nice as the hotel rooms I'd had with mom and dad on our yearly summer vacation. I couldn't help but wonder just how many of them there were. Certainly the castle was big enough to have many, without the use of magic. I suspected there were as many as there needed to be. And that was that.

Jason opened a bottle of wine when we were alone in his room. I was more nervous than I can remember being, well, pretty much ever. He handed me a glass of wine and I drank it. Far too quickly than I should have. I also didn't remember to hold it by the stem, like mom always taught.

I'm not sure when I sat down on his bed. Or if it was even a conscious decision, or something that I was led to. We both sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned toward me. And his lips were on my neck. And that felt really nice. So I just tilted my head and let him kiss my skin.

Moments later his lips were again on mine. He had nice lips. Thin and uhm. Well. Like lips, I guess. I think he was a good kisser. But the details are foggy. And I certainly didn't have enough experience to judge it against anyone else. He let his hands wander over my body. And I didn't really stop him. Or protest nearly as much as I should have.

But that's when it all started to feel wrong. And it all still felt wrong. It was just wrong. I know, I'm not being helpful. But I can't articulate what it was. I started to feel sick, and nervous, and that was just it. And everything was spinning. And I couldn't breathe. And now my dorm was spinning.

"Oh hey, you're alive," Millicent said. Apparently one of my roommates hadn't remembered her trunk.

"Kind of," I sighed. My voice came out a lot quieter than I wanted it to. If Millicent caught on, she didn't really show it.

"Astoria was worried about you," Millicent said. She was trying to sound absentminded. Like she was just commenting on whatever was going on in the common room. But I knew better than that.

"Not worried enough to check on me herself," I commented. Millicent seemed to catch my tone.

"Okay. Worried is the wrong word. She just wanted someone to pack for her. I got out of it by going to check on you, and gathering my own trunk."

"Oh joy, so I'm going to have to do that for her too? What's her excuse, too much mead?" It was less funny than I'd hoped. I suspect mostly because I'd had too much mead and the headache just wouldn't go away.

"No, I think Pansy volunteered," Millicent said.

"Why would she do that?"

"Boredom I suspect. Tracey left with Titus. So did you really ditch Potter at the party?" Millicent asked.

"Uhm," I said. She looked at me.

"My God, he was telling the truth?" She seemed shocked that Titus Button would do such a thing. I couldn't blame her.

"Kind of," I admitted. Millicent gasped.

"What happened?" she asked. "I mean you showed up pretty hammered last night. Woke up Tracey and I."

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"It's alright. You look like you had fun," she laughed.

"I guess," I said. I'd finished dressing, topping my ensemble with a green sweater. The sleeves were intentionally too long and I balled them into my palms.

"What happened?" she asked. I could sense both a bit of concern and some genuine interest. But I wasn't really ready to talk about it. Maybe if my head wasn't pounding I'd have been more willing. Still, I knew Millicent wouldn't let me off the hook that easily.

"Potter ditched me and I hung out with Titus most of the night," I said quietly. Judging from Millicent's expression, she didn't think she'd heard me right.

"What?" she asked, affirming my suspicion.

"Potter ditched me," I said quietly. Something in my chest hurt when I admitted it. Really, I just felt heavier. It wasn't a particularly good feeling.

"Well he's a dick, what did you expect?" Millicent said. If I'm honest, I should have expected that reaction. A very small part of me wanted to jump to his defense. But that part of me didn't have the energy at the moment. And I wasn't sure he deserved it.

"We were actually having a pretty good time," I said quietly.

"Apparently not," Millicent responded. She sounded a little snottier than she normally did. She checked the clock then and looked at me. "We should probably get going, though, or we'll miss the train." She was right too. I nodded and moved toward my trunk. The dorm was a little more stable than it had been earlier in the morning.

We wandered down to the common room. I thanked my parents for buying the trunk with the lightening charm on it. I could have probably figured out how to do one myself. But it was times like these where I was glad I didn't have to expend the effort to do so.

"Well we were," I argued, remembering that we were discussing the night before. It was annoyingly hard to focus. I half wondered if Professor Slughorn had put something in the mead. But I guess I was just looking for some type of an excuse.

"Who was?" I asked from behind me. I stopped walking when I heard that voice. Had Astoria always sounded that much like me, or was I just that hammered?

"Potter and your sister, apparently," Millicent answered her question for me.

"Good enough that she ditched him?" Astoria commented. She caught up to us with a few longer strides then walked on the other side of Millicent. "Are you two heading down to the train now?"

"Yes," Millicent answered.

"Great," Astoria said sweetly. "So I can yell at Daph for being a hypocrite the whole way." I just groaned. I should have seen that one coming.

"Please don't," I said quietly.

"About what?" Millicent asked. Astoria chose to talk to her instead of me.

"Well before the party my lovely sister gave me a nice lecture on how I shouldn't do anything with Blaise because that could be the absolute only thing he was after. And that I should be smarter than that," Astoria said. She still had the sweet, innocent tone in her voice. But I knew that wouldn't last.

"She did?" Millicent looked at me. At least my friend realized how much that didn't sound like me.

"Not really," I said weakly. Astoria just laughed. "I just said to be careful and aware."

"If you insist," Astoria responded. "It doesn't change the fact that she then whored herself out to Jason Williams of the Tutshill Tornadoes. Honestly, sis, I never figured you for a quidditch groupie," Astoria scoffed as we walked up toward the Great Hall.

"You didn't!" Millicent gasped loudly.

"Oh she did," Astoria commented, in what had to have been the snottiest voice she could manage. "Threw herself right at him after Potter ran out on her at the party. Whatever did you manage to say to him to have him run away like you had the plague?"

"Nothing," I scoffed. It seemed easier than trying to defend her adulterous charges. At least I doubted she'd try to turn me into Hester Prynne. Of course, she probably didn't even know who Hester Prynne was, so I had that going for me. I also wasn't sure if she was being completely serious or not. My brain wasn't working well enough to sense sarcasm.

"Certainly didn't look like nothing," Astoria said.

"What were you watching me the entire night?" I tried to respond with the same snotty tone she was using. But I don't think I quite had it in me.

"Yes," Astoria responded dryly. "It really irritated Blaise, too, so thanks for that. Now tell me what you said that caused Potter to ditch you."

"Nothing," I admitted. "He was about to kiss me and then Draco showed up. And he chased after him out of the party."

"Rather than kiss you? Ouch," Millicent lamented, at least someone felt my pain.

"Must think you're a cow," Astoria commented, rather unsympathetically. "But really? Like he'd go running after Draco? What the hell would be the point of that?"

"I don't know. I told him if he left I'd be very mad at him. He left. I'm mad at him," I said. I'd have crossed my arms or something for emphasis, but I was pulling my trunk. We were outside by then, and nearly to the carriages.

"Well instead of spending time with Potter, you had a nice, juicy night with Jason Williams. Personally I think Potter is probably a bit better looking. But I like darker hair," Astoria commented. Her tone softened a bit. "Honestly, I'd have probably gone after Titus before Jason."

"And wind up ostracized by everyone in the house?" I laughed. I'll be honest, I'd thought about it. But Tracey was one of my closest friends. And frankly, I really disliked Titus.

"Well anyway, how was Jason?" Astoria asked as we got into the carriage. She sounded genuinely interested.

"A rather good kisser," I said. It was Millicent's turn to laugh.

"Compared to what?" she teased.

"Quiet you," I said.

"She has a point. You don't have much to compare him to. So, what happened?" She asked, as the carriage started moving. I blushed and looked away from her. I knew staring out over the Forbidden Forest wouldn't really help my cause, but that wasn't going to prevent me from doing it.

"Nothing," I said meekly. I could almost sense Astoria rolling her eyes. It would have been her typical response in that situation.

"Uh-huh, sure. Spill it," she said.

"I'm not going to talk about this with you, Astoria," I said as sternly as I could muster.

"Fine, then talk about it with Millicent while I zone off into fantasy land," Astoria commented.

"No," I said.

"Yes," Millicent said.

"No," I said.

"Yes," Millicent said.

"No," I said.

"Yes," Astoria and Millicent said together. I rolled my eyes.

"I really don't want to talk about this," I said quietly again. Thankfully, the carriage ride was short and we were pulling into the station at Hogsmeade. The Hogwarts Express gleamed in the late morning sun.

"That's nice," Astoria said as she stepped out of the carriage and grabbed her trunk. Millicent followed her, and I followed Millicent. I was starting to feel a bit better, but I really just wanted to crawl back in bed. Thankfully, I never could stay awake on trains.

"So stop bothering me about it," I said as I pulled my trunk up to the train. And thankfully, Astoria did! At least until we were all in a compartment. Which was a bit odd, as she didn't typically sit with me on train rides. I wondered if her friends were all staying at school. I kicked my trunk underneath one of the seats before collapsing onto it, letting my head press against the cold glass. I closed my eyes and waited for the train to leave the station.

"So, what happened with Jason," Astoria asked again, as soon as the train started moving. I didn't open my eyes to respond.

"Nothing," I growled. Astoria laughed again.

"Seriously now, Daphne, just tell us what happened. It'll feel so much better to get it off your chest," she argued. I sighed a little bit.

"No," I said, sternly.

"And she'll probably stop pestering you as soon as you tell her," Millicent said. I didn't particularly like the fact that she was siding with my sister. So what if I'd been dragged out of a party by a quidditch star. It wasn't any of their damn business anyway.

"I so will," Astoria said. "And really what's a bit of juicy gossip between sisters! I mean really, you can probably give me some advice for Blaise!"

"No," I responded. I was beginning to wonder a bit about my vocabulary. I was supposed to be a highly eloquent British lady, after all.

"Oh come on! Just simple stuff, you know, like, how much did it hurt? And are you still sore? And is that why you're being such a bitch?" Astoria questioned. Millicent was chuckling under her breath. I almost spat at her. If she was so amused by this conversation she could answer my sister's questions.

"Astoria!" I pretty much yelled. I'd even taken the effort to sit up and glare at her. She cowered just a little bit. "For the last time. I'm not talking about this. If you care so much there are plenty of girls you can get that information from! I don't want to talk about this!" It was good to know I could still be mildly threatening when I wanted to be.

"Sorry," she muttered quietly.

"Let's let Daphne sleep," Millicent said calmly. I probably shouldn't have snapped at her. But I just closed my eyes and rested my head against the glass once more. The cold pane was soothing. "She's had a long morning. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to pester her over the holiday."

"I guess," Astoria said quietly. I just hoped she didn't run to Mom and Dad. Hopefully, they wouldn't ever find out about stupid decisions I made. I was sure they'd approach me about it. Astoria told them absolutely everything. My only hope was that she'd hold off on telling them until the end of break, so they'd put off approaching me about it until summer.

It was Astoria who finally woke me. She did so rather tentatively, almost like she suspected I'd bite. Which, I'll freely admit, was more tempting than I should admit.

"We're in London," she said rather meekly. I couldn't help but wonder just what she and Millicent had talked about while I'd fallen asleep. But whatever it was, Millicent had her walking on egg shells.

Honestly, I probably shouldn't have snapped at her. And I probably should have told her what happened. But I didn't want to go there. I didn't really want to think about it. At least not yet. I'm sure that when I wrapped my head around it a bit more, I'd tell Astoria. And I'd like to think she knew that. I just wasn't anywhere near ready to be pressed about it.

I mean, hell, I still wasn't even sure what I wanted. Or what I thought should have happened the night before. So trying to put into context what did, well, that wasn't really an easy task. Or helping anything.

I really needed to stop brooding in my own head.

"Thanks," I said quietly. I don't think Astoria really heard me. Or cared. I stood up and looked to the overhead compartment to try to find my trunk. I had a moment of panic when it wasn't there.

"You put it under the seat," Astoria said. I looked down and found it, letting out a sigh of relief as I did. Moments later we were walking off the train.

"Where did Millicent go?" I asked.

"She got up right when the train stopped. Something about her parents not liking to wait too long with the rabble at the station," Astoria responded. I nodded. She'd used that excuse before. I suspected it was only half the truth. She always grew a bit restless cooped up in a train compartment. Even if it was only for a few hours.

Really, the same happened to most of the Pureblood families. The ones who grew up traveling by side-along apparation and floo powder. And while we all understood the importance of preventing magical transportation into the school, it still seemed silly that the trip took so damn long.

Our father was waiting in the terminal. He stood patiently, chatting quietly with a couple of other parents. I suspected they were old friends from when he was in school, as I didn't really recognize them. But that could have been purely because I didn't spend more than a quarter of a second looking at them.

"Hey dad!" Astoria said as she walked past me and up to him.

"Hey girls," he responded, but not until he'd finished his conversation with his friend. Astoria just wandered out of the station toward snowy London. I lagged behind with Dad as he said goodbye to his friends. He didn't seem to notice my mood. Or if he did, he chose to not comment. Which, frankly, was probably for the best.

It only took us a few moments to get to the car. And then a few moments to get home. I passed the time by listening to Astoria prattle, as per usual. First she asked about Mom, who apparently was picking up a late shift at St. Mungos. After that, she moved on to the events of the first semester. She left my attending Slughorn's party out. Interestingly, she also left out every detail involving Blaise. I suspect she was sending a subtle message. If I don't talk, she won't talk. I guess it worked for me.

We were home before I knew it. It felt nice to step in. I excused myself, saying I was sick and wanted to take a nap. Astoria didn't buy it, but Dad didn't argue. Which, frankly, meant that he didn't buy it either. Had he, he'd have insisted on diagnosing me. Yes, it's annoyingly challenging to fake sick with doctors as parents.

But at the very least he gave me a few hours to sit and brood in my dark room before knocking on the door.

"It's open," I said, which was pretty stupid, because it was pretty much always open. But at least he had the decency to knock.

"Hey Daph," he said quietly. I'd changed into a tank top but was still wearing my dark jeans. Not that it really mattered, as I'd curled up in about six blankets too.

"Yeah, dad?" I asked, sitting up as I did. The blankets slipped off of me and I realized just how chilly my room was. Perhaps I should consider actually closing the window. Although that would probably make the blankets feel less deliciously warm.

"Mom just floo'd. She's running later than she expected. She was wondering if you'd start dinner," he said. I just groaned a bit. Mom could have cooked the whole meal when she got home with magic and probably till been done around the same time I would be without.

Of course, dad probably wouldn't scold me too much had I used magic. But a quick glance at the clock reminded me that he wouldn't be asking me to get started now, if he was going to let me get away with violating the underage wizarding laws.

"What are we having?" I asked as I got out of bed and walked over toward the doorway.

"I think your mother was planning on a roasted chicken with green beans and mashed potatoes," he said quietly. I groaned a bit more. If I was feeling better, I'd have probably complained. But I wasn't, and I didn't. Instead I just slouched my way into the kitchen and started to pre-heat the oven.

Mom got home around the time it finished. It wasn't my best effort. I'll admit that. But it was food, and mom seemed grateful to not have to cook. So that made me feel a little bit better in the long run.

And that's pretty much how my Christmas break passed. We did some stuff as a family for the first few days. We visited Mom's family on Christmas Eve, and Dad's on Christmas Day. The highlight gift was probably a pair of earrings from Mom and Dad. Astoria got me some of those daydream potions. She claimed she liked the ones I'd bought her so much she thought I should try them. I was actually looking forward to it. She'd bought me their new 'fantasy scenario' series. I thought I'd be a cute elf. Well, as long as it was more of a Tolkien elf than a house elf.

I was pretty quiet all break. Which was fairly unusual for me. I'd thought Mom and Dad hadn't picked up on it. At least until a few nights later. I snuck out of my bedroom to grab something to drink from the kitchen. Typically, my parents didn't care if we were up late on the holidays, as long as we didn't wake them up. So I moved as silently as I could. And I was pretty successful. Except for the fact that my parents were still awake.

They were sitting in the living room, watching some movie quietly on the television. I didn't recognize it. But it was in black and white and some guy was shocked about gambling going on somewhere. But that may have been a joke. I'm not sure, I didn't catch the entire line.

"Daphne," my mother said from where she was sitting on the couch. She was curled up against my father. He appeared to be dozing a bit, but he opened his eyes as mom spoke up.

"Mom," I responded as I opened the can of diet coke I'd pulled out of the fridge. I took a long sip.

"Are you doing okay?" Mom asked. Well that was pretty straight to the point. I just nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. She eyed me for a moment.

"You've been very quiet this break. And spending more time than usual in your room. And you've just seemed a little be depressed," Mom said quietly. Dad just nodded his agreement and looked like he was trying to wake himself up. Perhaps there was something he wanted to add.

"I haven't meant to," I said, doing my best to sound alarmed at their accusations. I'd pretty much been sullen, quiet, and kept to myself. I knew that. They knew that.

"Well, we just want to make sure you're okay," mom said. I nodded a bit.

"I am. Just, you know, worried about classes and grades and what not. Trying to keep up on my reading and keep the grades up and what not," I said softly. It was only partially false. I was pretty far on my winter assignments already, which was nice. Of course it would probably just lead to boredom when I got back to school.

"How are those going?" Dad asked. I thought Mom was about to hit him, which made me wonder just what she wanted to talk about. I hoped they hadn't pestered Astoria until she cracked.

"Okay," I admitted. "I'm not doing as well in Defense as I'd like. But I think I'm doing pretty well in everything else. Surprisingly well in Herbology."

"So O's across the board, save defense?" dad asked. I shrugged my shoulders. I'd long since learned that predicting grades at the half-way point wasn't a particularly good idea.

"Well in Muggle Studies, History and Transfiguration yea," I commented idly. At least I hoped my last few classes partnering Weasley wouldn't hurt my grade too much. He'd been a pain, but we'd gotten better marks. Mostly now he just listened to what I said, realizing that got him out of class sooner. "Defense probably around A to E and everything else between E and O." My father frowned at my words. But my mom didn't seem that put out by my marks. Still, she was looking at me curiously.

"Well you can get the defense grade up. You should probably approach Professor Snape soon if you want to get those transcripts for law school," he said. And he was right, I probably should.

"I don't know if I'm going to do that," I said. And it wasn't because I was freaked that Professor Snape would just leer at me and tell me I had no purpose attempting to do anything in the Muggle world. Of course, Professor Snape probably didn't realize that the magical community was expanding into the Muggle world. And that things like agents and medical professionals were sprouting up around the world. It really couldn't hurt to have more Muggle education. Although I hadn't been in a Muggle school since primary school. So that would be interesting.

And it wasn't like other people didn't do it. Sure, apprenticeships with someone in your desired field were more common. Usually those were set up by a friend-of-the-family, as us pure bloods weren't typically short on affluent friends.

And to my dismay, my educational goals would be more accepted if I went into medicine. I mean, they say magic is based on intent and what now. And because of that they also argue that if you have education on the inner-workings of the body and the organs and what not then it made them easier to heal. I'm not sure how much I agreed with it. But both my parents were pretty adamant on it. And they each had experience as healers with and without additional Muggle education.

"No law school?" mom asked. She looked rather concerned.

"No. I'm still planning on that," I admitted. "I just don't think I'll skip my seventh year for it. Seems like it shouldn't be that big of a deal to get involved a year later."

"Probably not," My father agreed. "I'd even consider doing a short internship at the ministry too. That would put you a bit closer, age wise, to the people that would be your classmates in law school." I giggled a little bit at his use of internship. He must have had a fresh batch at the hospital, as no Magicals called it anything other than an apprenticeship.

But I dreaded that. As I wasn't sure who my parents contacts were at the ministry. But I knew that one of my housemates had a father who had been a prosecutor for the ministry for years and years before stepping down to take a seat in government. And that he still did some work for specific clients here and there. And that if my head of house had his way, that would be whom I apprenticed for.

And yes, that was Theodore Nott's father. And, despite the fact that Theodore did seem fairly interested in Millicent, I figured if I was required to spend time with his father. That wouldn't last.

"I don't know about that. I just think I should finish the education," I said. My parents nodded.

"Well that's a very adult decision," my mother said. It was my turn to nod.

"I think I'm going to go to bed now," I said after a few moments of silence. I took another sip of my diet coke. I had about half the can left.

"Good night, Daphne," my father said.

"Night," I responded as I moved toward my room. But my mom spoke up.

"Not yet, Daphne. I want to know why you've been crying in your room most nights," she asked. I blinked a bit. How had they heard that? I certainly hadn't been loud. And hell, my face was buried in my pillow most times. But apparently I should have risked the silencing spell.

"Claire!" My father scolded. He obviously didn't think this was the time or the place for this conversation. Of course, he may have just assumed it was 'girl stuff' and we all know how much that freaks out fathers.

"No, Nathan, something's wrong with one of my girls and I want to know what it is," she crossed her arms over her chest in the same way I do when I'm irritated. I could sense that they'd conversed about how to have this conversation. I had a feeling this wasn't what they'd agreed upon. But then I saw my mom wince and tear up a little bit, she slid her left hand out from under her arm and I saw it was badly scarred and burned. I was pretty sure it didn't look like that in the morning.

"What happened to your hand?" I asked.

"You tell me and I'll tell you," she scoffed. It was childish, especially for my mom, but it worked. Because I wanted to know.

"Boy trouble," I said. It wasn't as much of a lie as it could have been. "And that coupled with the stress from classes is getting to me." I frowned as cutely as I could.

"Who's the boy?" she asked. She spat the question and I wondered just why she seemed so off about that.

"Not Theodore Nott still, is it?" Dad asked.

"A little, but mostly Harry Potter," I sighed. I couldn't quite believe I'd admitted that. Both my parents just exchanged glances.

"Harry Potter?" Mom looked surprised.

"Yeah, he's an idiot though. Now what did you do to your hand?" It was my turn to cross my arms. I realized I was scolding my parents. And I highly doubted that would end well for me.

"Some mail for me at the office contained some sort of burning, blistering agent," she said dryly. I knew the office meant the spot she and a few friends rented off of Diagon Alley where they worked on healing theory.

"Why?" I asked. I vaguely remembered making fun of Granger for something similar a few years back.

"Not everyone agrees with our methods," she said dryly.

"What now?" I asked.

"We're working on a spell that extends a patients chance for survival by siphoning life off of a healthier patient. Sort of like an organ transplant, but without the organs. And far more minor," she explained.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"It's necromancy," my mother responded dryly.

"Borderline," my father commented.

"No," mom said. "It's necromancy. It's stealing life from something. While it has a positive result. We're not far enough in our research to determine the possible negative repercussions that it could have on both donor and patient."

"I see," I said, mostly so dad wouldn't have a chance to argue with her. I wasn't in the mood to be a third party to their philosophical debate. "Will it heal?"

"In a day or two," she said. Possibly three. But yes, I'll be fine. We should have just waited to publish the article on it."

"I'm sorry," I frowned. She waved me off with her good hand. I wondered how often it happened. But she turned her attention back to the movie and I suspect she didn't want to talk about it anymore. At the very least, she wasn't questioning me about Harry Potter, so that couldn't hurt.

I watched dad put his arm around her on the couch and I took that as my cue to move away from the living room and to head back to my bedroom. I suspected I'd have to spill the beans, as they say, on Potter in the morning. But that would wait until the morning. Somehow, as I crawled into bed, I felt better. I couldn't explain it. But I felt lighter. Thankfully, I knew I wouldn't cry that night. And maybe that meant I was better. I guess I wouldn't know until I got back to school.

And thankfully, that happened just a few days later. My parents didn't press about Potter or my general sullenness. But I made it a point to be a bit more perky and around more during family time. They seemed to appreciate it, and it was a simple sacrifice to make.

A few days after Astoria and I floo'd back to Hogwarts. She arrived in Professor Snape's office first. I could have probably used a few more days at home. But, unlike Astoria, I'd at least remembered to pack my homework. And it seemed superfluous to bother Professor Snape twice. Especially if I wanted to get something from him. And yes, I did feel it best to not bother him well more than a year in advance.

I walked back to the common room with Astoria, and then went up to my dorm to do as much unpacking as I normally do. I was the first girl in my year back. I hadn't seen any of the seventh year girls either. Which meant I would probably hang with Astoria and her friends as I didn't like any of the fifth years.

And that's pretty much what I did for the last few days. Tracey came back first. She was too busy talking about the things she did with Titus Button on their day at Hogwarts, and then apparently when he visited her home over the holidays, to bother with bringing up anything I may have been rumored to do.

Pansy was next back. And she was too busy worrying about Draco and how he'd ignored her the entire break. And hadn't even gotten her a Christmas present. Personally, he'd be out to sea if I was Pansy. But she apparently really liked him. Or was some type of saint. I hadn't decided which.

Millicent wanted to pester me more when she arrived the day before classes resumed. But I used the patented 'I'm tired' excuse and went to bed. And then managed to, surprisingly, get up early the next morning for classes.

So I was sitting in Transfiguration, trying to figure out what the hell I would tell her later. Probably the truth. That usually worked the best between friends. I knew she wouldn't tell anyone, either. But I wasn't sure whether or not she'd believe me.

I think McGonagall was lecturing on what we were supposed to have read over the holiday. I'd done the reading and could probably answer a question if I was directly called upon. Of course, I probably wouldn't know what the question was, but that was a different argument. I'm sure she'd repeat it if she called on me.

But she didn't. Surprisingly, she didn't call on anyone to answer any of the review questions. At least if she did I was too busy zoned out to figure out what she asked and who answered it.

Eventually, I noticed the glowing number on my desk again. And I flipped through the pages of my book, wondering what Weasley and I would attempt to work with today. I half wondered why he didn't just sit at the desk next to me with how often we wound up paired in the class.

Of course, even if he wanted to, I don't suspect Terry would have let him. He was pretty overprotective of his seat. I'd learned early that it was best to make sure he had more than half the table for his books.

I flipped through the pages of the text to see just what we'd be working on today. I groaned when I saw the complexity of the transfiguration. She seriously couldn't expect us to pull this one off. Especially after spending the last few weeks lazing around our homes on break!

But apparently today's task was to turn both of our ties into a miniature, functional, broomstick. Apparently it was a great way to make a quick, and easy, toy for children. Which was something I hoped I never, ever, had to utilize.

I chewed on my lip a bit as I read the instructions from the spell. It was far more advanced than anything I'd have even attempted had I been working by myself. And she expected me to pull it off with a partner? It was going to be a very long class, I thought.

"You look cute like that, too," Potter said quietly as he sat down next to me. I blinked a little bit. I liked being called cute more than I should have. It made me feel appreciated and liked. But that feeling didn't last more than a moment. Because after that moment, everything changed. My hands clenched into fists, my jaw shut together, and I took about every ounce of my willpower to not punch him.

"Fuck off, Potter," I growled.

"Uhm," he started.

"I'm cross with you," I said. But I reached up and peeled off my tie, quickly, depositing it on the table. He looked a little confused. I suspected that he hadn't read the assignment yet.

"I'm sorry?" he said.

"That's nice," I said coolly. I turned my chair to look at him. He looked like he'd probably skipped breakfast that morning. But he sort of always looked like that. I think it was mostly because he never bothered with the hair. Or fully buttoning his shirt. He looked a little bit lost. And he wasn't doing anything, so that irritated me.

So I reached out toward him. I put the back of my hand on his face. He stiffened stared at me. I traced my hand down, letting my fingernails slide over his skin. He just stared at me. I moved my hand very slowly down over his neck.

And then I grabbed his tie. Pulled it pretty much as hard as I could, making him gasp a bit and pulling his face close to mine. He looked startled. I just untied his tie and placed it next to mine on the table. It took him a moment to recover.

"What was that about," he asked.

"Read the stupid assignment," I said. "I needed your tie." I was arranging it on the desk the way it started in the text. Thankfully, his tie was clean. No food stains or anything.

"Yes, but you could have just asked," he stuttered. I shrugged, feigning that the thought had never occurred to me.

"I suppose," I pushed the text toward him, knowing I couldn't get started until we were on the same page was very irritating.

"And you didn't," he said.

"Are you reading the assignment or not?" I asked, attempting to sound as much like Granger as possible. It worked, too, as he immediately started to read the text. I'm not sure how much I liked that he obeyed when I sounded like Granger, but she had trained him well.

"Okay, which end do you want," he asked. I answered honestly.

"The bristles," I said. Purely because I knew that would be harder.

"Alright," he said. And then he started to doodle a broomstick on a piece of paper. I looked at him.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"It helps to get a mental picture," he responded. It looked like he was doodling his Firebolt. I watched for a moment.

"That it does," I agreed. I should have known he'd actually put forth effort. He always had in Herbology.

"Good enough?" he asked.

"Sure," I responded. I went for my wand, he did the same.

And then we started with the spell. But it was different. I focused on one end of our ties. Gradually they started to turn into bristles. I waited for Potter to start helping. But I never felt the crushing weight that happened every time Weasley joined the spell. Instead, it felt like I was working on the spell alone. I rolled my eyes, suspecting I'd have to do all of the work.

Although, I guess I owed him for the Herbology help.

I shook my head. It was never a good idea to be focused on something else while working on the spell. I made sure the bristles were tightly bunched as they were on his broom. Of course, I'd only ever seen one close up on a display. It didn't take me long to finish my part of the spell. Certainly it took less time than I'd expected. Almost like something was spurring me on.

I then went to move on to the rest of the broom. But when I looked down at our ties, well, they were gone. And in their place was a perfect replica of a Firebolt, although about one sixteenth the scale. I blinked a bit. Potter seemed just as surprised as me.

"That was, uh," he started.

"Easy," I finished. I examined it as closely as I could. But McGonagall approached.

"Finished already, you two?" she asked.

"Yes Professor," Potter said. McGonagall picked it up and examined it. She looked fairly surprised. It took about four minutes before she put it down.

"Professor Sprout said you worked well together. I was skeptical. But this is certainly outstanding,"

"Thank you, Professor," I said dryly. McGonagall nodded at me.

"It's good to see you back performing at your old level, Miss Greengrass," she said. I blinked a little bit. My level had remained perfectly the same, thank you very much. It wasn't my fault you saddled me with a terrible partner.

Thankfully, I didn't say that aloud.

"But I sense something in it. The two of you weren't fighting each other. But there's more tension in the magic than there should be. I like the work that I have seen here so you two will be paired together for the next few weeks. I would suggest working on that tension if you wish to remain this successful for the remainder of the semester." McGonagall said. I groaned a little bit, which just earned me a glare from both the lions. But really? Now I'd have to work with him in two classes? And all I really wanted to do was punch him. Maybe I should just get that over with.

"Works for me," Harry said quietly. If I didn't know better, I'd have suspected that he said it purely to prevent McGonagall from scolding me for groaning.

"And you, Miss Greengrass?" the professor asked. Stupid question, if you ask me, because we all knew I didn't have a choice in the matter.

"For me as well," I sighed a little bit. She nodded.

"Professor Sprout implied the two of you work better than this. Or am I imagining that it seems that you do not want to be at the same table as each other. Did you two not attend Professor Slughorn's party together?" The Professor apparently had some incomplete gossip.

"We did. Potter then ditched me at the party," I said dryly. The Professor just stared at me for a few moments. But Potter didn't argue it, so I think she believed me. Either way, she changed the topic when she spoke next.

"Alright, Miss Greengrass, you are excused. Mr. Potter, a word about Quidditch schedules if you don't mind," she said. I couldn't imagine why the head of house would be that interested in his quidditch scheduling. But I suspect one of the team members had some sort of a scheduling conflict. And it's not like they probably had much else to talk about. I stood to leave, gathering all my books into my bag. It looked like I would be the first one out of class today.

"Wait, Daphne," Potter said. "Don't you want your tie back?" I kind of did. But I didn't feel like undoing the spell. I just shrugged.

"Keep it," I said. The broom was cooler than our two ties anyway. And I didn't even like flying. I flipped my bag over my shoulder and marched out of the classroom.

And yes, the frustrated look on Granger's face as she worked through her own spell with Weasley was hilarious.

Author's Note: I'm still willing to add on a third beta. Although, given the propensity mine have for disappearing, it may not be a healthy profession. As always, thanks for reading. I appreciate all of the continued support. The best way to contact me is through a PM on the website. I try to respond to everything I receive there.

I'm not sure if I'll be writing chapter 11 of this or chapter 2 of Tenebrae next. But we'll known in about two-three weeks, I suspect.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgements: Alpha-Alliera and Zaion Indulias for the beta work on this chapter

Chapter 11

You know, you'd think, that with how much I bitch about the cold, that maybe, just maybe, one year, I wouldn't attend the stupid January quidditch match where we played Ravenclaw. I mean sure, we were winning, I think. I don't know, I couldn't tell you. I was too busy freezing.

Yes, yes, I know, 'oh it's simple Daphne, just get better at your warming charm!' yea, tried that, had a nice looking sunburn for four days. At least, that's the excuse I gave everyone.

So instead I just complained over and over and over again, just like any high class lady would, about how cold I was. It was fun. But I'm sure my friends were rather irritated. Although, for what it's worth, we focused far more on complaining than we did on the actual match we were attending. I think Ravenclaw was winning. But I can't be sure. Mostly because I didn't really care and hadn't watched much past the opening draw.

The first couple of weeks back at school passed fairly uneventfully. The first week always is. The professors spend most of their time going over what you were supposed to master on the holiday break. I had, naturally, so it was pretty much review. But the professor's weren't silly enough to assume that everyone in the class had bothered to complete their winter assignments.

Part of me wished they'd be a bit harsher about the assignments, because if they were then I suspected there'd be much less indolence from the student body. Of course, the professors did have quite a bit more experience in these matters than I did, and I suspected their methods developed out of necessity rather than laziness.

I wound up working with Potter almost daily in classes. It was a bit irritating. We didn't talk much. We exchanged maybe a handful of words a class period. And even then it was usually just to develop what little of bit of a plan we'd need for the class itself.

We spoke far more in Herbology. Mostly, I think, because we were dealing with rather dangerous plants and communication seemed more important than one of us getting injured for some stupid reason.

Transfiguration, though, we just stared at each other for a few moments and then picked a side of the object to work on. Usually, about fifteen minutes later, we were done and we left. Typically the entire class period could be resolved in about three to five words.

Part of me enjoyed finishing early in every Transfiguration, and most Herbology, classes. But another part of me kind of missed the social interaction that most other classes entailed.

Well, except for History of Magic. But then again, you never expected there to be any sort of social interaction in History of Magic. You just hoped it didn't turn into nap time so you wouldn't have to redo the reading and cram for the next test.

But anyway, we'd all been out at the match for about an hour. So I decided it was probably time to go and get some concessions. Because moving would increase blood flow, or something of that nature. Mostly I was bored with the game and sick of being cold.

So I stood and moved through my friends on the bleachers. There was barely enough room for someone to get past when we weren't all bundled up in winter garments. I only obscured the view of about twenty people in the far too long that it took for me to make it to the aisle.

And then when it did one of the stupid team captains decided that was a fantastic time to call a time out. And so about half the people standing around me also stood up. I groaned and moved with the rest of the cattle toward the concession stand. Stupid late morning match, messing with everyone's lunch when I wanted to go and maybe buy a cauldron cake and huddle over for warmth.

I let pretty much everyone move ahead of me as I approached the stand. Thankfully, most of them were in a hurry and trying to get back to their seats quickly as to miss as little action as possible. I just stood in line, moving slowly up to the front and debating what I wanted. At least until I was distracted from my frozen stupor by an annoying voice.

"Daphne?" Potter said. I groaned a little bit. But I turned to look at him. And he looked like some type of god.

He was standing there, in his stupid Gryffindor colors. He had his stupid scarf pulled around his neck and looked rather deliciously warm. Especially in the excess amount of robes he was wearing.

I should have dressed warmer.

But like Bacchus himself, he held drinks. Warm chocolaty drinks. And Cauldron cakes. If I'd have started drooling, like I really wanted to, I think it would have frozen to my lips. That would have probably been an interesting sight.

"Potter," I said. Or shivered. Shivered was probably the better verb. "What are you doing here." I probably sounded annoyed. And it was a dumb question. And he answered it exactly how I should have expected he'd answer it.

"Watching the match," he responded. "It is public you know."

"I did know that!" I responded. I tried to sound condescending and bitchy but I don't think it quite came out that way.

"Your turn," he responded. "What are you doing here?" I glared at him. Who does that? Why turn the question back on me. What's the point?

"Going for concessions," I said. I noticed the announcing resumed. So they must have resumed playing. I suspected that he'd want to return to the action immediately. But he didn't. Instead he just looked at me.

"Me too. Hermione wanted hot chocolate, so I grabbed two," he said, holding them up. The cauldron cakes rested on top of one of them, still neatly packaged. My first thought was something along the lines of 'fuck Granger.' Then for some strange reason that made me think about Potter fucking Granger. I didn't like that image. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I grabbed one of the hot chocolates he was holding and took a deep sip of the wonderfully warm liquid. Potter looked a little surprised, but he didn't comment. I think I would have preferred if he had. Instead he just stood there, looking at me. He did; however, shift the cauldron cakes into his other hand and take a sip of his own cocoa.

"That was for Hermione, you know," he said softly. I could barely hear him over the din of one of the teams scoring. The noise seemed a bit further away, so I assumed it was Ravenclaw, as most the Slytherins were sitting on this side of the pitch.

"Don't care," I said. "Freezing." And I took another sip of the gradually cooling liquid.

"Your lips are blue," he said.

"No they're not," I responded. But I was really cold.

"Well maybe not. But looks like they're getting there. Don't you bother with a warming charm?" he asked.

"Don't work," I responded.

"Sure they do," he said, tilting his head to the side. "And you learn them in like fourth year. They're not that difficult." I just glared at him. He paused for a moment before I commented.

"And why aren't you using one then? You're bundled up far too much," I accused.

"Quidditch," he responded.

"That would make more sense if you were, you know, actually playing quidditch," I said dryly.

"When you're playing," he explained. "You're not allowed to have any charms or spells on you."

"I know," I said. "You're not supposed to have anything that can be perceived as giving you any sort of an advantage." Everyone knew that. It was common sporting knowledge. Madame Hooch examined each player as they came out onto the pitch. In the professional leagues, two officials looked over each player on both teams.

"Yes. So I try not to use things like a warming charm. So I'm accustomed to the weather when I have to play or practice in it. Makes it a little easier," he said.

"I guess that makes sense," I agreed. I didn't want to. I just couldn't think of a decent enough argument to use. And I was a bit more focused on the fact that I was running dangerously low on hot chocolate. Thankfully, there wasn't currently a line at the concession stand.

"I can't take credit for it," he sighed. "It was Wood's idea."

"Well obviously, considering it was a good idea," I deadpanned. I realize that to insult him I had to compliment another Gryffindor, but at least it was an ex-Gryffindor.

"Ouch," he said. But he smiled. He had surprisingly white and even teeth. I'm surprised I hadn't noticed before. But I'd never really looked straight into his smile before. He took a moment to unwrap the cauldron cake.

He looked at it carefully and was going to eat it when I took it out of his hand. I took a dainty bite out of one of the corners.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. I just looked at him, chewed and swallowed.

"What?" I asked sweetly. "Was that for Granger too?"

"No, that was for me," he frowned. And I felt bad. But only for a moment. But it was long enough for me to hand it back to him. He looked at it for a second and then took a bite out of it.

"Sorry," I shrugged. I'm sure I didn't sound at all sorry. But, that was pretty much the point. I pretty much just wanted the rest of the cake.

"It's fine," he said. And surprisingly, he offered the rest to me. I ate it, quickly.

"Thanks," I said. It was a total one-word response day, if you asked me.

"So what brings you out today," he asked. Considering we were both standing next to the quidditch stands during a match, I think it was a fairly dumb question. But he was just trying to make conversation. I shouldn't fault him too much for that. Even if it was stupid. And even if I didn't really want to talk to him.

"The match," I responded dryly. Unfortunately I did say 'the' and it voided my streak of one word answers. But just saying match would have made me feel a bit too much like Gregory or Vincent.

"I thought you said you weren't a big fan of quidditch," he said. I felt like I'd had this conversation before. But I don't think it was with him, so I just shrugged.

"Not much else to do on days there's a match," I admitted. "I'm leaving, though. It's too cold to stay and watch Slytherin get slaughtered by a bunch of prissy intellectuals."

"Says the prissy intellectual?" he commented, raising both of his eyebrows.

"I am no such thing!" I argued. And then I realized I was arguing that I wasn't an intellectual. Which mean I was arguing that I was stupid. And I felt stupid for arguing that. Which I suppose meant I was stupid and that I was correct the entire time. And right about that point I decided it wasn't worth thinking about any longer because I was just going to make my head hurt.

"Well must not be, if you're arguing it," he teased. I just crossed my arms.

"I'm so leaving now," I said.

"Mind if I accompany you to the caste?" he asked.

"Do your dates just always end in ditching girls?" I countered. He just blinked.

"What?" he asked. He looked fairly stunned.

"Well you were buying things for Granger," I scoffed.

"Oh," he said. "We didn't come here together."

"You didn't?"

"No. She just found me here. Like you said. There isn't much else to do on days when there's a match."

"I see. Shouldn't you be scouting?" I asked.

"Probably," he said.

"Well hop to that," I said. I turned to leave and started to exit the pitch. I saw the scoreboard out of the corner of my eye as I did. We weren't losing by as much as I suspected. But we were getting killed.

"Eh, I think I'll leave too," Potter said and he stepped into line next to me. I frowned.

"You're not scouting that way," I said. I knew Slytherin teams had a tradition of making sure the entire team watched the entire match. I suspect Gryffindor didn't have such a tradition. Or perhaps Potter was simply ignoring it. He didn't strike me as the type who would ignore something like that, though.

"Debatable," he smiled. "And anyway, we already played Slytherin, so that's a moot point. And Ravenclaw is playing exactly how they did against Hufflepuff, so we've already scouted that."

"No. If you're here, then you are not scouting anything. That's not debatable at all," I argued. I finished off my stolen hot chocolate and tossed it into a nearby bin. I took a moment to wonder what happened with all of the garbage. The bins only ever showed up for the Quidditch matches, so I suspect elves or Filch took care of them after they became irrelevant.

"Maybe I'm just not scouting quidditch?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. What else could he possibly be scouting?

"Or maybe you just want to go four-and-oh with abandoning dates?" I commented right back. He actually winced a little bit. And that made me smile.

"Bitter much, Daphne?" he asked. And for the first time I could remember, there was actually malice in his voice. It was very unusual to hear. It sounded completely wrong for him. He didn't even usually sound that annoyed when bantering with Draco. I'd hit a nerve!

"Very," I responded.

"Well I'm sorry," he said. He sounded it too, but I really didn't care that much.

"Uh-huh," I said.

"And for the record, I didn't abandon Parvati. I was just too busy sulking and she decided a Durmstrang boy looked more entertaining. And Cho ran out on me. I sat in that stupid damn tea shop for like five minutes feeling like a moron. And I did not come here with Granger," He said. His tone was still harsh. I didn't say anything. It seemed like the more intelligent thing to do.

So instead I just kept walking. He matched my stride. We didn't move particularly quickly. I'd have preferred to move faster, because it would have been nicer in the warmth of the castle. But I didn't feel like moving any faster than I was. And there wasn't anyone out on the grounds that would obstruct our path to the castle.

And it didn't help that the more I thought about it, the more I just felt like a bit of a selfish bitch. I mean yeah, he pissed me off. Really quite a lot. And it was an incredible dick move to leave me at that party. But it wasn't like we were anything. And it wasn't like I hadn't had a decent enough time. What was I going to make him do, apologize a thousand times? Well, I wanted to. And gifts would have been nice. But I'm not the Queen of Sheba. So I'm sure I couldn't get away with that.

I let out a long sigh. And with it, for a reason I certainly couldn't explain, went a large portion of my anger. I felt lighter. I felt better. I tilted my head to the side a little bit as I looked across the grounds. I wonder just how that happened. Letting things go had never really been one of my better traits.

But, at the same time, I could sense how much he was fuming next to me too. How tense did you have to be so the person next to you could feel it? Well that's how tense he was. His jaw was clenched. And he didn't look at me when I turned to look at him. His face was completely passive too. His eyes focused hard ahead, looking at the castle.

I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. But I couldn't just up and ask him that. It would be too strange. And I suspected I wouldn't like the honest answer. And that he probably wouldn't give me the honest answer. And I wasn't really sure that I deserved an honest answer, anyway.

Really it boiled down to the fact that I felt bad. And I didn't like that I felt bad. But that there wasn't anything I could think of to do.

I slipped my left hand into his right and gave it a gentle squeeze. He tensed more, but only for a moment, before he just sighed as well. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze as we walked in silence toward the castle.

I let go of his hand as soon as we entered. Inside was every bit as wonderfully warm as I had expected. I did a little twirl on demi-pointe, something left over from years of dance lessons. Thankfully, I didn't fall on my ass. Potter just chuckled as he watched.

"So you really like the warmth?" he asked.

"Doesn't everybody?" I commented as I relaxed back onto my feet.

"I'm pretty indifferent on it," he said. "Sometimes I prefer to be cold. Sometimes warm."

"Well you're strange," was the best response I could come up with.

"You've implied that before," he said quietly. "But I'm still the one who can properly cast a warming charm."

"Quiet you," I said. I'd have been mad at him, but I'd given him enough shit today. It was now my turn to take some.

"Why can't you?" he asked. His voice was calm and reassuring. I shrugged a little bit.

"It's not that I can't," I explained. "It's that when I do it's either so damn weak that it is pointless, or it's so damn hot that it pretty much burns me."

"Well, magic is about intent," he started.

"I know it's about intent," I interrupted. I didn't need a lecture from Harry Potter on how magic works. I'd gotten enough of those in my day. I knew how the spell should work, and all of the theory behind it. But that didn't matter. I still couldn't get it to work. And it's not like intent with a warming charm was particularly hard to pinpoint. I wanted to be warmer.

"No, hear me out," he said, and I just looked at him.

"What, then?" I asked.

"Do you have your wand on you?"

"Yes." I took it out. He took it from me and examined it. It made me feel a bit naked to not have my wand. Especially with how he was leering at it. And I'd have been a little more annoyed, but I suppose after stealing his hot chocolate and cauldron cake I shouldn't comment about him snatching something from me.

But he was handling it very carefully. Like a prized object. He barely held it in his fingertips. It was surprisingly similar to how Ollivander typically held wands.

At the very least, he wasn't walking off with it.

"What is it?" he asked as he handed it back to me.

"Ash and fairy wing," I admitted. He looked at me and blinked little bit so I spoke again. "Uhm, eight and a half inches. Ollivander described it as quick."

"Fairy wing?" he asked. "Is that common?"

"I don't know. He said he gets donations of them. I'm not sure how that works. I tried a couple other with the same core before he decided Ash worked the best." It was a slightly strange conversation to be having. Typically we didn't really talk about our wands. I held it protectively in my hand while I did.

"How long did that take?" He seemed far too interested in this conversation.

"I don't remember," I admitted. "It wasn't long, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Dad's wand was Ash, mom's had wings as well, but pixie, he just mixed and matched. Is this completely relevant?"

"No I guess not," he sighed. But he didn't seem to recall just what we'd been talking about as he smiled sheepishly at me. So I reminded him.

"You were lecturing me on first year principles of magical intent," I said dryly. He nodded.

"Right, so when you cast the warming charm, what do you want?" he asked.

"Really, Potter?" I responded.

"Bear with me, please?" he asked. I just sighed and looked at him.

"I want to be warmer," I said quietly.

"Okay, and then what happens?"

"I cast the charm and either pretty much nothing, or I fry," I said.

"Are you a patient person, Daphne?" he asked. I just looked at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Okay, so no. Well, do you want to be warmer immediately?"

"Why the hell do you think I'd be casting the charm?" I asked. He just smiled a little bit, almost knowingly, at me.

"And I think we've discovered the problem," he said.

"Enlighten me?"

"Its intent isn't to make you immediately warmer. It's to gradually warm you to a certain temperature and then stabilize there," he explained. I was surprised he remembered that much detail from a third year spell. But I just nodded.

"I know," I said. "How is this helping?"

"Can we try something?" he asked. I just groaned. I didn't have anything better to do though so I nodded again.

"Fine," I said. But then to my surprise he pulled me back outside into the cold. We stood near a bank of snow just outside the castle doors. I started shivering almost immediately and frowned.

"Changed my mind," I said and moved back toward the door. But he blocked my way.

"Do you trust me, Daphne?" he asked. I blinked and looked at him.

"No," I answered honestly. He just shrugged, placed his hands on my shoulders, and knocked me onto my ass in the snow. It was very unpleasant and very cold. I shot up almost immediately, remembering that I still had my wand in my hand and wondering just which hex to use on him.

"What the fuck was that Potter!" I yelled. He just stood there and smiled. Despite having my wand turned on him, he made no move to draw his own.

"Cold?" he asked. I just glared at him. I didn't hex him, though. Something felt wrong about hexing someone who wouldn't fight back. So I just nodded.

"Yes," I admitted. My teeth were chattering. He nodded.

"Okay, cast a warming charm," he said. I glared at him. "No, seriously, just try it. But don't worry about burning yourself, or being immediately warm. Just cast the basic form of the charm. Let it do what it's supposed to."

I frowned as he said that. But I cast the charm. Nothing happened.

"Still cold," I said as I put my wand back into my pocket. "Can I go back inside now?"

"Not yet," he said.

"Please?" I asked with the most coquettish smile I could muster. He swallowed hard when I did. I rather liked that response.

"Not yet," he said again. But it took him longer to get the words out this time. He paused for another moment and then asked. "How do you feel now?"

"Still cold," I responded instantly. We were silent for a few moments. He just stared at me. I let him. I moved a strand of hair out of my eyes.

"And now?" He asked again. He really wasn't giving up on this, was he?

"Still cold," I admitted. "See, it doesn't work."

"Huh," he said, rubbing his chin. "I don't get it, that usually-"

"Oh," I gasped as warmth started to spread through my body.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm not cold anymore," I blushed as I spoke and looked away from him. He blinked a little bit.

"It worked?"

"I think so," I giggled and fell back into the snow. It was cold, yes, but I felt a bit of a warm bubble around me, and it made it, well, not so cold. It didn't get any warmer either. Instead I just felt protected, for lack of a better explanation. I giggled a little bit and stood up.

"Told you," he said with an annoying little smirk. "It's just being patient and letting the spell work rather than forcing it to work."

"Yes, whatever," I said, ignoring his explanation as I twirled once more. I slipped a little bit on the icy ground and fell toward him. But he caught me and I leveled myself quickly.

"Don't hurt yourself," he laughed. I shrugged.

"I won't," I said. And I reached up and put a hand on his chest. He looked a little surprised as I stared into his eyes and said, as sweetly as I could. "Thank you, Potter. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Daphne, but really, please stop calling-" and when he got to that point I pushed as hard as I could. He fell back into the snow this time and I just smirked.

"Well I'm going to go finish my homework now. See you in class, I guess," I said as nonchalantly as possible as I spun around and returned, once more, to the castle.

I didn't deal with Potter much for the rest of that week. We worked better in class than before, I suspect. He didn't bring up warming charms and I didn't bring up knocking him into the snow. In fairness, he did it to me first.

I sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall in the morning. I was eating some eggs and otherwise not reading _Atlas Shrugged. _This current round of Muggle Studies reading was driving me a bit insane. But I suspected some of my classmates would agree with it a bit more than they suspected they would at the start of reading. Either way, the damn thing was a tomb that was taking forever to get through.

And here I'd laughed a little bit to myself when Professor Burbage gave us our deadlines on it. I thought it would be a cakewalk and I've had it read in a week or two. Wow was I wrong.

Pansy and Tracey flanked me at the table. Astoria sat across from me. She was half on the bench and half on Blaise's lap. I didn't comment. I really hadn't commented on anything she'd done with him since Slughorn's party. I wasn't sure if I was in a position to do so. But she didn't comment. And after talking to her while dress shopping I was probably less worried about her than I should have been.

Astoria's friend Eve sat next to her and seemed to flash between jealousy and simply being uncomfortable as the two of them carried on. Millicent sat on the other side of Tracey. There was the usual din of morning conversation. But I wasn't particularly involved in any of the conversations.

At least not until a brown owl landed next to me at the table with a neatly wrapped parcel. I pulled a couple of knuts out of a pocket and paid the bird before taking the parcel and opening it carefully.

"What did you order out for?" Astoria asked from across the table.

"A journal," I said.

"The Journal for Magical Medical Advancement?" Tracey said, leaning over to take a look at it.

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Isn't that the thing Mom writes for?" Astoria asked from across the table. It was nice to see that she'd stopped feeding Blaise sausage for a moment. I paused for a bit and thought about that sentence. I struggled not to giggle uncontrollably. At least until I thought about if it was reversed and Blaise was feeding Astoria sausage. That made me want to gag.

"Yes, it is," I said, carefully.

"What do you want that for?" she asked.

"I dunno," I lied. "I was interested in her latest article. You know, the one that she burned her hands over?"

"What?" Astoria asked. "She dropped some weird gel on her hands that burned them." Astoria sounded so sure of herself. I wondered why Mom would have told us different stories. Somehow, and I'm not sure how I knew this, but somehow, I knew they'd lied to Astoria and not to me.

"Maybe," I shrugged.

"What did she tell you?" Astoria asked. She suddenly seemed defensive. Blaise was rubbing her shoulders. I'm not sure when he'd pulled her fully into his lap, but he had. He looked at the two of them for a moment. She had a very determined expression on her face. Blaise just looked concerned. I half wondered if his hands on her shoulders were more of a reassuring gesture to calm her down than anything else. Perhaps Blaise was better for my sister than I wanted to believe.

And then I thought of the sausages again and thought that perhaps he wasn't.

"She just said it wasn't that well thought of," I lied. "I kind of wanted to see what it was about."

"Why didn't you just ask her?" Tracey asked. I hadn't realized she'd been listening in. I'd thought she was talking with Pansy over the differences between missionary and doggy-style. Honestly, I'm not sure what their point was, but all the two of them talked about anymore was sex. And it was constant. They had to have been trying to brag, or something. I don't know. I didn't get it. And I probably wouldn't in the foreseeable future.

"I tried. She just kind of shrugged me off," I lied. Only one of the people at the table picked up on the lie. And it wasn't the girl I'd expected it to be.

"Doesn't your Mom usually tell you pretty much anything you ask?" Millicent asked. I frowned a little bit. Because it was something we'd discussed many times. You see, most of my friends' parents didn't particularly care for their kids. They were just sort of around.

Most of my classmates were tutored during their early years by some type of Victorian-esque governess, whereas Astoria and I had gone to a Muggle primary school. Of course that option was gaining in popularity. Blaise had also attended a Muggle primary school. And Tracey's younger brother was in one now. I think it was just amazingly less expensive. And we Purebloods were nothing if not frugal.

"Usually, but she didn't really seem to want to talk about this," I hadn't noticed that Pansy had picked up the journal until that point, either. Which was a bit irritating.

"I thought you were more interested in going into the ministry. Like being a ministry prosecutor than you were in becoming a healer," Pansy asked. At least they'd listened, or registered, some part of the career conversations we'd had. Of course, Pansy probably only remembered because she thought it was odd I actually wanted to do something other than get married and have a bunch of kids.

Or, I supposed, in the case of most Pureblood families, one son. It was fairly amazing how many of my male housemates had no siblings. Of course, if you asked me, one son was preferable to the brood that someone like the Weasley's had to deal with.

"I am," I admitted. "I just wanted to read what Mom wrote about some new healing spells."

"Should have just asked her," Pansy said dumbly. Obviously she hadn't been paying that close of attention to everything that had gone on before. But hey, that's what friends were for, right?

"Did, it wasn't an effective strategy," I laughed. Pansy just shrugged.

"Apparently not. And you understand this mumbo-jumbo?" she asked. She stared down at the words on the journal page and shook her head a bit more. "I'm not even sure how to pronounce most of these words."

"Me either," Tracey said, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm probably the same," I laughed. "They key is that they're probably just some strange medical term that doesn't really matter to the understanding of the article as a whole." I nodded knowingly. It was fairly amazing how far one could get on that assumption. The medical professionals seemed to like both Latin, and stupidly long words. Somewhere along the way one of them decided to try to combine the two. Personally, I don't think it had worked. But then again, I wasn't a medical professional.

"Yeah but, like, that only works if you can understand at least half to the sentence," Tracey laughed. Pansy nodded her agreement.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Not when you get opening paragraphs where you can pick out about four words in the entire damn thing."

"Hey, I didn't' say it would be easy," I laughed. "Just that I was kind of interested in what my mom wrote. She commented she was getting some flak on it. And I kind of want to see why."

"She was?" Astoria asked. She looked more concerned now. Worried even. Her friend Eve made some excuse to go to class. Obviously she was growing a bit bored by the conversation. Pansy looked at her watch and did the same. But we all knew her 'class' was going to find Draco. At the very least she slipped the journal back to me before she got up and left the table. She seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time looking for him lately. I should have probably been a better friend and asked what exactly was up. Except for the fact that I knew she'd probably prattle on about it some night in the common room.

"Yes, she was," I said. "Something about the content. And certain people not agreeing with it."

"What's it about then?" Millicent asked.

"I don t know," I lied again. I suspected if I feigned ignorance long enough my friends would lose interest. I'm not sure why I didn't really want to talk to them about it. But they weren't usually the most understanding when it came to my parents. They'd never flat out accused them of blood treachery or something. But they certainly didn't ever claim to understand what my parents did. Or why they chose to do it.

Although, and this may just have been a naive form of hope. But I thought they were starting to get it as they grew older. I think, part of it, came from the fact that when we were young we assumed magic could accomplish anything. And the older we got, the more we started to understand that magic was a limited resource. And that if we could find ways to expand it, it could benefit our society as a whole.

I liked to think that my friends, and really myself if I thought about it, were really starting to realize just why the work that someone like my mother did, was beneficial to the society as a whole. The logic shifted from, 'while we live longer than Muggles anyway, why bother with their technology' to 'well if we use Muggle technology, we may be able to add another fifty years'.

Like I said, it was probably a fanciful notion. But at least it made Professor McGonagall's theory lectures more bearable.

"No idea at all?" Millicent asked. She seemed slightly disappointed. I wondered if she was more interested in the medical stuff than I'd previously thought.

"I thought she was doing something with dark magic," Astoria muttered quietly. That perked up just about everyone at the table. I wanted to curse Astoria for saying it. You didn't just go around saying your parents dabbled in dark magic. Even 'work related' wasn't a particularly good excuse.

I know some people, _cought_, most Gryffindors, _cough_, thought that we were all just part of a cesspit that produced evil warlocks. But the fact was, we received the same education they did, and understood magic in pretty much the same ways they did. If Slytherins had a greater propensity for becoming evil, well, at least to my estimation, it was an after-Hogwarts coincidence.

Still, Astoria should have known better. But then again, she was still so very young. And it made me feel stupidly old and jaded for thinking that.

"Dark magic doesn't heal people," Tracey said matter-of-factly. But it didn't need to be said. We all knew that already.

"The opposite, usually," Blaise added. It was the first thing he'd said during our conversation. He pressed his lips softly into Astoria's neck right before she was going to make some sort of comment. It shut her up, though, so I appreciated that.

I blinked a little bit then. Blaise was never as annoying, Pureblood-wise, as some of my housemates. I knew there was some history of Muggle society in his background, but what I wouldn't have been able to place. It wasn't something we talked about very much.

But that didn't mean I couldn't shake the feeling that Blaise was intentionally getting her to not talk. Was he protecting her? That seemed unlikely, but it was still the vibe I had. Perhaps I should speak with him in private and see exactly what's going on.

"Quite," I said. "But I've no idea what it was about. That's why I bought the journal. I'm interesting in seeing what it is."

"What type of stuff does she normally work on?" Tracey asked. I shrugged again.

"I don't know. It can be anything from examining Muggle practices to see if there's anything of value in them to trying to develop new healing spells," I explained. "I'm never really sure what she's working on at any given time."

"Not surprising, I guess," Tracey shrugged. "I never have any idea what my parents are doing. Well, actually, I have a pretty good idea what my mom is doing. Shopping, usually," That caused the rest of our little gaggle to laugh.

"That's pretty much the same with my parents," Millicent laughed. "Dad's doing something or other and mom is spending galleons!"

"I guess dad's just lucky then," Astoria giggled. "Mom's hobby doesn't involve spending money. I know mine would!" I winced as she said it. But the rest of the table just kept laughing. And that pretty much ended the conversation on why I'd bought a medical journal. So I slipped it into my pack and didn't bring it up again.

That Thursday night, after a particularly irritating day, found me at Book Club. It was only the third time I'd gone to Book Club that year. And Professor Burbage had been pestering me, in the nicest way possible, about my lack of presence. I could only get away with the homework excuse for so long.

And I did miss the little informal gatherings. So I'd decided it couldn't hurt to attend. Especially because it seemed like my homework load was down. Most notably in Transfiguration. But I knew that had to just be my imagination, as McGonagall never lessened the work load. I must have just been used to it by now.

Terry and I were chatting idly about the novel we were both supposed to be reading for class. Unfortunately, neither of us was really enjoying it, so we didn't have much to talk about with it. Professor Burbage was nearby chatting with some third or fourth years about whatever they were reading in class. But I suspected she was hearing our conversation anyway.

That was really the best thing about Book Club. I'd appreciated it more as a younger student. The older students were always willing to help discuss the details of the books they'd read in years past. And it was usually a great learning tool for the book as a whole. It was amazing just how much you could get out of a novel by talking about it with someone else.

It was also interesting to attempt to actually cook, which Professor Burbage insisted we do at these things. Usually I was roped into doing a lot of it, as I had more experience with Muggle appliances than most other students in the class. But today she hadn't asked. Perhaps it was one of her ways of trying to get me to come back some more.

And I have no idea exactly how they kept the appliances working in the castle. But I suspect they weren't entirely operated by Muggle means. Certainly, the stove didn't seem to work quite the same way as the one I had at home.

And on the plus side, we still had the elves if we completely messed up making food. Tonight's menu was pretty simple comfort food. Roasted turkey and mashed potatoes with some soufflés for dessert. It smelled divine.

Of course, that wasn't helping Terry and I. As we had both pretty much decided we didn't really care who John Galt was. Mostly we couldn't understand why just about everyone would give up on pretty much everything.

We were at least attempting to debate the ways that professor Burbage would link this novel's themes to the other themes we'd studied in the class. But I wasn't quite able to come up with anything. And neither was he.

"Oh yes, that's a very good observation," Professor Burbage said loudly. She'd intentionally raised her voice at that point. I suspected she was trying to attract someone's attention. Right around the same time a buzzer went off from one of the Muggle cooking apparatuses in the room. "Oh and the soufflés need to be checked on. Terry would you mind?" she looked over her shoulder right at him. He just shrugged, but nodded and got up to go and do just that. Although he looked a bit annoyed that he was asked to do it and not me. Frankly, I probably would have been too, as we both knew I was better with dessert items.

"So yea, Professor, I just don't quite understand what the point of that scene was," a fourth or fifth year girl asked.

"Well let's ask Daphne," Professor Burbage responded. It was one of her annoying tendencies. She'd prefer students get answers or explanations through discussion with other students, rather than simply lecturing them on it herself. "She loved Shelley!"

"Percy more than Mary," I muttered, which just made Professor Burbage laugh.

"Nonsense, you never stopped talking during the _Frankenstein _unit!" the professor argued.

"Only because I liked the fact that it was a story in a story in a story in a story in a story," I said dryly. The professor just shrugged.

"Well, Andrea, why don't you explain to Daphne what we were talking about.

"Mostly I just don't get why Victor is such an idiot," the girl, Andrea, said. I laughed quietly to myself.

"That's easy, he's a man," I responded. "I mean really, it's pretty clear that Elizabeth is the stronger of the two."

"But she's barely in it," Andrea commented.

"I know. But I think it's just a juxtaposition of the characters. Victor is too selfish and self-absorbed to really realize what's going on around him. And he gets a terrible lesson in paying more attention to your surroundings," I giggled a little bit. It probably wasn't the best bit of literary criticism someone could come up with over Shelley's work. But it was the best I had at that moment.

"Well that's as good of a place as any to start. Why don't you girls talk about that while I chat with Daphne for a few moments," Professor Burbage said. Andrea and her friends just nodded and continued the discussion while the professor and I walked away.

"So you're not that into Atlas?" she asked.

"I dunno, the Titan is probably pretty hot," I deadpanned.

"Unfortunately, Daphne, I'm asking about the book," she responded.

"Well that's unfortunate," I said.

"Yes, well, as much as we'd all like a Greek god to be our plaything, Daphne, life doesn't typically work that way," Professor Burbage laughed. I couldn't help but giggle a bit as well.

"So you never get over wanting that, eh?" I teased.

"Ouch. I'm not that old, Daphne," she laughed. "But, again, we were talking about the book, not our perverse fantasies."

"Oh yes, I guess we were," I sighed and sat down at one of the tables in the classroom. I wasn't wearing my uniform that night. Only about half the people at Book Club were. Instead I just had on some jeans and a dark green t-shirt. It was tight fitting and, if I say so myself, made certain assets of mine look better. And yes, that was probably the only reason why I'd bought it. "I just think it's getting a bit tedious."

"You're not the only one," Professor Burbage said. "I dread this unit. But I'm thankful it isn't in the fifth year so everyone doesn't drop out after it."

"I'd have thought about it," I laughed.

"I know," she said. "Everyone does anyway. It's a good book, though, once you give it a chance."

"Am I going to care who John Galt is?" I asked. So far it was the only question bothering me about the book.

"Knowing you? Probably not."

"That's disappointing," I said, but I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey now, at the very least he's not a doctor and as such he has no patients," Professor Burbage added.

"I'm never going to live that rant down, am I?" I asked, shaking my head that she even brought it up again.

"Oh, I'll probably forget it in about a year and a half," she smiled. I doubted that my graduation would make her forget it. But maybe it would. "Unless you go on and become a doctor and wind up marrying a patient."

"I don't see that happening," I laughed.

"Hey, you never know when life may surprise you," the professor laughed. I rolled my eyes. It was a little annoying when professors decided that it was in anyone's best interest to go with the whole philosophical routine.

"Guess not," I agreed, simply because it seemed like the easiest way out.

"Speaking of surprises," Professor Burbage looked toward the door of her classroom. She must have heard it open. I hadn't, but I'm certainly not known for being an attentive listener. "Never thought I'd see him in my classroom."

I looked over to the door and blinked a little bit myself.

"Well that's interesting," I said. Potter looked his typical disheveled and confused. I could have sworn he had Quidditch practice on these nights. Mostly because it was also one of the main nights that Slughorn had his little gatherings. But Professor Burbage was paying absolutely no attention to me. She'd already left the table and was moving toward the stunned looking Gryffindor. No one else had really bothered to take notice of him as he entered.

"Mr. Potter!" I heard Professor Burbage say. Harry looked a little bit startled as he looked around. That exclamation also caused just about everyone in the room to turn and look at him. I think the only person who didn't bother was Terry, who was still checking on the desserts.

"Uhm, hello, Professor Burbage," Potter said. He seemed to stumble over her name a bit, as if he wasn't sure he had the correct diction and didn't want to offend.

"Hello to you," she smiled. I looked at my watch and noticed that it was about the point where the chickens should be done. And the girl who'd been put in charge of it at this point was still struggling with the potatoes. So, mostly to avoid Potter, I got up and moved to the stove to check on it. Sure enough, it was pretty much a perfect golden brown.

"To what do we owe this surprise?" I heard Professor Burbage ask. I took the chickens out of the oven. The fourth year who was mashing the potatoes looked at me and gave me an appreciative nod.

"Uhm, pretty selfish reasons, actually," Harry admitted quietly.

"And what would they be?" Professor Burbage pried. I noticed just about every other person in the room had moved to one of the tables. It looked like Terry, the younger girl, and myself would all be required to commence with the serving. I groaned. That's what I get for being helpful.

"Well I missed dinner. Lost track of time before quidditch practice, and I'd heard there was a meal here," I turned to look at him, levitating the pan with the chickens on it toward one of the large, communal tables.

"Indeed there is," she smiled. "And we always welcome more people to the party. Here, take a seat. It looks like we're just serving up the food now." And she walked with him over to the table where another place setting and drink appeared. I simply helped get the food onto the table. I barely noticed when I wound up sitting next to him a few moments later. I prepared a plate for myself then turned to him. He'd already devoured most of what he'd taken.

"So are you like, stalking me now Potter? It's not enough to work with me in class daily?" I asked. It was supposed to be a teasing question, but given the way he looked at me I didn't expect he took it that way.

"I didn't know you were here," he said. And think he was telling the truth.

"I told you about these gatherings," I responded dryly. He nodded his agreement.

"Yes, you did. You also said you didn't go to all of them. And that there was food," he said. I didn't remember the details of the conversation all that well. But I wouldn't have argued against him.

"Yeah, and?" I asked, spearing a bit of chicken and eating it. I liked the way I made it more, but the younger girl had certainly done a good job. And it was always nice eating food you didn't have to prepare yourself. And yes, I do realize that I prepared about a whole twenty meals for myself during the course of a year.

"And there's flyers for these on the bulletin boards in the Great Hall," he commented. Which was also true. I frowned a bit and looked down at my food.

"Oh," I said quietly. I kind of liked the thought that he was stalking me a bit more than his stupid logic. That certainly didn't come out right.

"And since Ron decided that I really didn't need all of the chocolate frogs I had stashed in my trunk, I'm woefully low on food. My options were here or Slughorn. And you know how I feel about Slughorn," he continued. Something felt off. I had the slightest feeling that he was making up at least part of the story. But I didn't think it was worth accusing him about it. Or even really bothering to talk about it.

"I see," I said quietly. I looked down at my food and scooped some potatoes onto my fork before spearing some more chicken and eating it slowly. I attempted to think of something to say to Terry, to pull the conversation away from Potter. But unfortunately, Terry was pretty absorbed in talking to a fifth year Hufflepuff on his other side.

"If you want we can say I came here just to see you," Potter sighed. I looked back at him.

"It's only fun if it's true," I said. But before he could respond Professor Burbage asked him a question. I didn't catch all of it. And only half listened to his response as I went about eating my food.

By the time I was finished, most everyone else was. Hannah Abbott and I helped the younger girl who'd cooked the meal clean up. It earned us each five points for our house. But only because we'd just gotten up and helped immediately, and she hadn't had to solicit volunteers. It seemed like we'd just finished when Professor Burbage spoke up.

"Alright everyone. It's ten minutes away to Light's Out, so back to your common rooms. Thank you for coming, I hope you all come back next time." She smiled jovially as she spoke. She walked over to Potter next and said some kind words to him about how he was always welcome, even if it was only to mooch food. He thanked her about the same time that I was leaving and we managed to walk out the door together.

"Hey Daphne?" he asked as we stepped into the hallway.

"Yes?" I responded. I hated when people did that. If you wanted to ask something just ask it. Don't go through this whole conversational crap just to get to the point.

"Did you have plans this weekend?" he asked. I shrugged a little bit. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, so I'd probably go into town. But past that, no I didn't really have plans.

"Not really," I admitted. "Homework, probably."

"Cool," he said. I thought that was a bit odd, but it didn't seem to warrant further comment. Of course, that didn't prevent me from commenting.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I just want to show you something at some point this weekend, okay?"

"I guess," I said carefully, raising my eyebrows. We approached the part where he'd head up to Gryffindor Tower and I'd head down to the dungeons.

"Alright, cool," he said again. I just looked at him and shook my head.

"Good night, Potter," I said. He rolled his eyes when I said it.

"Good night, Greengrass," he responded. I tilted my head to the side. My surname sounded weird on his tongue. But I didn't comment. I suspect he was hoping I would. Instead I just turned and walked toward the dungeons.

Author's Note: I'm still looking for a third and fourth beta if anyone is interested. As well as any artists willing to do a bit of digital art for commissions for covers of my work.

I hope to have chapter 12 done by the end of the week. But don't hold me to that, it is a holiday week and one never knows what can happen.

Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate the continued support. If for whatever reason you'd like to contact me, the best route to do so is through PM on the website. I try to respond promptly to all of those that I receive. Thanks again.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, QuiteMike, Righteous Dreams and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 12

Hogsmeade was very pink. Very, very pink. I'm not sure that if I lived in the small village I'd be willing to hang little hearts off my gutters and dye my roof pink and white and arrange the shingles into heart patterns. But it looked like pretty much everyone in Hogsmeade did.

And the annoying part was that there was still a good week before Valentine's Day.

Of course, that wasn't stopping everyone from having their own little dates. Despite the fact that most of them would sneak out and do something or other on the fourteenth as well. And then again probably the week after.

So I guessed the excess decoration did make some sort of sense. I mean the village pretty much lived purely because of the Hogwarts students. So I suppose I'd probably cater to them too, if I was living there.

It was even more annoying that most of the inside of the shops were bright pink as well. It was just everywhere. Like some sort of happy-toned plague.

"Is anything not pink?" Tracey sighed from my side. We were doing some spring shopping. And neither of us were having much luck.

"There's some white over on that rack," I nodded toward it. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, there is, and guess what color the lettering is?"

"Pink?" I offered.

"Pink," she confirmed.

"Tis the season?" I joked. She just shrugged.

"Must be. Rather irritating too. I'd rather my entire spring wardrobe wasn't one color," she scoffed. I couldn't help but agree with that sentiment.

"Yeah, I think we picked the wrong weekend to go shopping," I sighed. Everyone else was out with their dates. Draco and Pansy were going to that teashop. I suspected that would be an entertaining experience. And Millicent and Theodore were doing something or other in the town. I hadn't asked too much about their plans. Mostly because Teddy had been talking and I really didn't feel like leading him on in any way shape or form. At the very least, he wasn't bothering me that much. But I could tell he wasn't that interested in Millicent.

There may have been something there for the first couple of weeks. Maybe even a month. But after that he started distancing himself. I think she knew it, too, but she didn't say anything about it to me. Really, I didn't talk to her nearly as much as I had in years past. And I missed her a bit. But I was spending more time with Tracey and Pansy and so far that had been pretty much okay.

"Probably," Tracey sighed. "But why would they charm everything to be pink."

"I don't know," I admitted. "We could probably get them to change the colors on some of it."

"Yea I know," Tracey responded. "But I'm not seeing much I'm interested in, anyway. How about you?" she sighed. I knew the feeling. Of course, it came with the fact that Gladrags wasn't really as known for keeping its Hogsmeade facility stocked with the newest stuff as it probably could have been. There was a reason we did most of our shopping during the summer.

Well a reason other than that was the point we could usually con the parents into really opening up the purse strings.

"Nothing really either," I sighed. We gazed around, bored, for just a few more moments. But we both knew we were simply killing time. I checked my watch. It wasn't nearly late enough yet.

"It six yet?" Tracey asked. I just frowned.

"Four-thirty," I responded. She groaned a little bit.

"Fuck that," she said.

"Pretty much," I agreed. "Can you remind me why we agreed to meet them all for dinner?"

"Because we're awesome," Tracey said.

"I think it's more like because we were invited and it sounded like a better idea in theory than in practice? Hey, we could have decided to show Vincent and Gregory a good time," I teased. Tracey just laughed.

"You could have," she countered. "I'm claimed."

"Ugh, both of them at once? I barely survived the Yule Ball," I joked.

"Hey, it was your idea," Tracey commented.

"Hardly," I laughed. "It was Draco's idea. He didn't look happy when we decided against it."

"I suspect they'll be waiting for us at The Three Broomsticks," Tracey said.

"Already assumed that much," I responded.

"Good, you can entertain them, then, while I think about Titus," Tracey smiled fully at me.

"Just as long as I don't get a lecture on everything that that you imagine Titus doing to you," I sighed. Tracey just started to giggle.

"And that's why you're a fantastic friend," Tracey smirked. I just shook my head and sighed.

"Well it's good to know I'm helpful," I commented as dryly as I could. Sarcasm was my friend!

"You are, now make yourself even more helpful and come look at quidditch t-shirts with me," she ordered. I rolled my eyes but followed her down to the level below where the sports related clothing was.

"Why do you need a quidditch t-shirt?" I asked. It certainly didn't seem like the type of clothing Tracey would normally wear.

"I want a Bats shirt," she said. "Seems only fitting to wear one around since I'm dating one of them." And she giggled far too much at the dating comment. But I guess she's allowed to giggle. Even if it makes me want to strangle her.

"Can't Titus just have one sent to you?" I asked. That seemed like a much easier solution than going to Gladrags and purchasing one. We stepped off the stairs and moved to the women's area of the floor. It was one of the only areas that was smaller than its male counterpart in the entire shop.

"Yes," she responded. "But I don't trust Titus to pick out something that I'd actually wear. Knowing him he'd just walk into the team store, grab a shirt two sizes too big for me, and owl it to me."

"That would be a problem," I admitted. She nodded before shaking her head at some Cannons t-shirts.

"Yes, it would be. And then I'd have to make him feel bad by not wearing it, pretty much ever, and it would just be far more of a hassle than it's worth. And ugh, how can someone wear something that orange," she asked.

"Beats me," I said. "Just be glad that Titus didn't get drafted by them."

"Oh I am," she laughed. "But really, the Bats aren't any better."

"Why not?" I thought they had a pretty decent color scheme. At the very least the colors matched. Then again, pretty much everything matched with black.

"Because their uniforms make it look like you're going to a funeral," Tracey said. And I couldn't really argue that. They were a bit dark.

"I guess," I conceded.

"You had the right idea. Hit on a Tornado. I'd look way better in the mix of blues than black and red," she sighed. I blushed a bit at her bringing that up. For the most part, my housemates hadn't really talked about it. Except for the occasional ribbing comment. "And you look pretty good in that Tornadoes shirt Jason gave you."

"He didn't really give it to me," I defended myself. "I just kind of took it."

"Well you wear it enough," she said. I shrugged. I'd taken to sleeping in it. It was a soft shirt.

"It's comfortable," I shrugged.

"Looks it," Tracey agreed. She was peering through the rather limited amount of options that they had for the Ballycastle Bats.

"You know," I said, remembering that Tracey was actually pretty good with tailoring charms. "The men's department may have something better that we could alter."

"I already looked when we first got here," she said. I nodded. She must have been looking when I'd gone to thank the worker for the deal he'd given me on the dress for Slughorn's party. Of course he'd then asked how the night had gone and I was forced to lie and tell him it was completely and utterly wonderful. But he just seemed happy enough that I'd enjoyed the dress.

"Damn," I said. Tracey nodded.

"How about this one?" she asked, holding up a red shirt with a black bat logo on the chest.

"Eh," I said. She nodded and folding it back up, placing it back on the table.

"I agree," she said.

"What about one of his jerseys?" I asked. "That would be nice to alter down and probably better than most shirts."

"I was already planning on that," Tracey admitted. "But they're kind of heavy and bulky. I was hoping for something that was a little bit easier to look sexy in."

"Oh I'm sure you could look sexy in a jersey," I said as reassuringly as I could. I wasn't really sure of any such thing. And she was right, they were kind of bulky things.

"Are you hitting on me, Daphne?" Tracey asked, dryly.

"Naturally," I responded. "Sexy minx like you? Hard not to."

"Mmm I know. So what do you say then? We get out of here and go get a room at The Three Broomsticks and have a bit of fun before dinner?" She picked up another shirt and held it up against her body while she looked in the mirror.

"Sounds divine," I said. Tracey just nodded.

"Oh yes. Have we killed enough time yet?" She asked. I looked at my watch.

"Nearly," I responded.

"Alright I'm just getting this one," she said.

"Perfect," I responded. I didn't have the heart to comment that it was pink.

Once she'd paid we found ourselves back outside. It was warming up. But it was still pretty cold. I waited while Tracey shrunk the Gladrags bag and tossed it into her purse. I couldn't help but think it was fairly ironic that we weren't allowed to use magic at home, under parental supervision yet I'd never heard or seen anyone be chastised for using magic, with no supervision, in the middle of the streets of Hogsmeade.

"Three Broomsticks?" she asked as she zipped up her purse.

"We'll be absurdly early," I commented. She looked at my watch.

"Not that early," she said. "We can stop at Honeydukes on the way. I could always use some stashed chocolate."

"Can't we all," I laughed. And so we made our way to the sweet shop. I could have probably used something from one of the other stores in the area too, if we had time. If I thought about it while we walked I could inventory my supplies. That was one thing that was very nice about not being in potions. You didn't need any emergency Hogsmeade runs for extra ingredients. Of course, I was pretty sure if I ever decided to brew something again, a vast portion of my spare ingredients had probably gone bad by now.

"Oh yes. I'm going to drop like five galleons in there, I just know it," she laughed. I knew that feeling as well. Thankfully I never quite had that big of a binge. I could usually get by only spending two galleons on chocolate. And no, I don't think that was necessarily better. After a few more steps though, Tracey spoke again.

"Hey Daph, can I ask you something?" She asked.

"Yea sure," I said, not really thinking about just what she could ask me. It wasn't like there was a whole lot that she could ask me that I wouldn't be willing to answer. I pretty much suspected I'd get the 'what exactly did you and Jason do' question. Although it seemed odd that she'd wait a month and a half to ask that, if she really cared.

"What's with you and Potter?" she said it so quickly I barely registered what she'd said.

"What?" I asked. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on," she laughed. "Do you think we don't notice that you like, put your hand on his in Transfiguration. Or stand really close to him while doing the spells. And let him guide your arm. Like there's any way in hell he's better at Transfiguration that you."

"Hey, he's pretty good," I said. And it was true. He was. He didn't need any help from me to be good in the subject. And he had given me a few pointers that helped as well.

"So are you," Tracey scoffed. "And then there's Herbology. Where you're pretty much always smiling at him. And doing pretty much whatever he says. And letting him lead you about."

"Well that's just for a free grade. I've never gone past Acceptable in Herbology and Sprout says we're almost at Outstanding level now," I commented. Tracey just rolled her eyes.

"Okay fine. But then there's the party. And sure, I believed you when you said you were just going to spy on Astoria. Because I'd so be spying on my sister if I had one and she was dating Blaise," she explained her view. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Well that's why I went," I said.

"And then why were you so pissed at him after?" she asked. When I just stared at her she elaborated. "When we first came back to school. You wouldn't look at him. You wouldn't help him at all in Herbology. And when you were first paired in Transfiguration you were so tense I thought you were going to hex him."

"Well I wanted to. He ditched me. I was pissed," I sighed. Tracey just shrugged. I sensed that she thought she'd established her point well enough and that she was going to change the topic. Or at least get to whatever her original point had been. Because part of me doubted that she was just wondering what was going on between Potter and I. Things didn't work that way in our house. There was always some sort of motive.

"Well do you like him?" she asked. I could sense the emphasis on the word 'like' but I decided to ignore it in my response.

"He's nice enough," I said. Tracey scoffed. "What! He is. Once you get past the whole Gryffindor thing. I mean, mostly I just don't mind working with him. It's better than some of the partners I could have had. We can't all be as lucky as you and get randomly paired with Pansy in every class."

"Well I do have to admit, I cringed a little bit when McGonagall paired you with Weasley," she laughed.

"I did too," I responded as we ducked into Honeydukes. I wondered just how long I could evade the questions I knew she was going to ask. At the very least I bought some time by making it to the candy shop.

"Felt bad for ditching you for Pansy in Herbology. But now that you're getting a better grade than me I care a lot less about that," Tracey admitted.

"At least you didn't throw up all over the greenhouse," I responded dryly. "I'm surprised I haven't been given more shit about that."

"I'm not," Tracey said. "Three other people threw up as they were leaving. You were just the first of many!" I rolled my eyes as she put a super-formal emphasis on the last few words. I think she was trying to make it sound like I'd won some type of award, but I wasn't going to fall for that!

"Well, I'll have to make sure to thank them for not making me the only pathetic person to gag up my breakfast," I sighed. Tracey just nodded.

"And Potter was at least observant enough to get your hair out of the way. Most boys would have sidestepped away and bolted from the Greenhouse before you'd finished gagging the first time!" Tracey commented. I'd forgotten about that. But frankly, I was a little preoccupied at the time.

"See," I laughed. "He's not all bad!"

"Maybe you're right," Tracey sighed. And for a glimmer of a moment, I thought she'd let the topic die. But I could tell she was just staring at the candy at that point. And I knew Tracey well enough to understand that she'd get back to the topic, eventually. But for a few blissful moments she was distracted.

"So what are you going to get?" I asked. She just shrugged a bit.

"I haven't decided yet. What about you?" she countered. I shrugged and thought about it for a few moments. It would have probably been easier to pick something out, if, you know, it had been my idea to go to Honeydukes.

But it wasn't, and now I suspected I'd be forced to buy more than my fair share of sweets. If for no other reason than to make it so Tracey didn't feel like she was fat or something when she bought whatever she settled on.

"I don't know," I said. "I'll probably just get some caramels. Maybe some of those mint cream things they have." They were about the closest one could get to mint chip ice cream while at Hogwarts. She made a face at my suggestions. And I could understand why. They were pretty basic choices, especially for Honeydukes.

"So you're not going to get anything adventurous?" Tracey asked. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"I'll do a blood pop if you do, but you aren't getting me to go anywhere near a cockroach cluster," I deadpanned. Tracey smiled and shook her head.

"I think I'd rather eat a bug than blood," she countered.

"It's not real blood, just blood flavored," I retorted. Of course, I hoped I never had to find out exactly what one tasted like.

"And that makes it better?" she asked.

"I guess not. But I do rank it above a cockroach," I nodded knowingly. I doubt that Tracey was convinced. But, I just slipped away from her to go look at the caramels. A few moments later Tracey slid up next to me.

"Make up your mind?" she asked. I just nodded.

"Oh yea, box of those and a box of those," I said, pointing at the two things I'd decided on. One of the very helpful, albeit not particularly cute, Honeydukes employees was packaging my order. Annoyingly, with pink Valentine's Day paper. So that only made me feel a little bit pathetic. I should have conned someone into buying the candy for me. I shook the thought from my head and looked back at Tracey.

"What did you decide on?" I asked.

"These," she said, holding up a couple of candy bars. "And I'm going to get a few of those, those, and those." She also pointed to the display case as she spoke. The clerk returned and handed me my goods. I paid and thanked him before tucking the two small boxes into my bag. I'd purchased the size based on not having to shrink them, and because I didn't' think anything good would come from me consuming one of the larger boxes.

Tracey, on the other hand, could probably use to gain a few pounds. But I wasn't going to comment. She told the clerk what she wanted, but didn't give him a charming smile like I did. See, I was way more personable. And charming.

But the clerk didn't seem to mind. He just blushed when he looked at the two of us, but otherwise just went back to work.

"When did they start doing that?" Tracey asked quietly as she watched him.

"Doing what?" I asked.

"The blushing and looking away bit when you bother to smile at them," Tracey explained. I hoped the clerk couldn't hear her. But she was whispering, and he was a few feet away, humming quietly as he gathered up the candy.

"About halfway through fourth year," I responded knowingly. But Tracey picked up on my tone and giggled.

"I don't think it was that early, fifth year at best," she commented. But by then the clerk returned and Tracey thanked him, a bit curtly, but she did at least thank him, before she paid. And after that we stepped back out into the streets.

"Time?" she asked as we resumed our trudge through the snow.

"We'll be fashionably late if we just head straight to the Three Broomsticks now," I said with a quick glance at my watch.

"Perfect!" Tracey laughed.

"How is that perfect?" I asked, but her laugh was infectious so I joined her, although with more of a slight giggle than a laugh.

"Because we don't want them to think we've been bored all day. That way Pansy and Millicent will just lord their dates over us," Tracey explained. I caught her drift.

"So that way we can chat incessantly and not have to hear about what the two of them got up to all day," I added.

"Exactly. I suspect it would be a very boring conversation anyway. I'm sure I can summarize it perfectly. Theodore and Millicent probably wandered around the town and chatted awkwardly. Because that seems to be all they did. They may have stopped on a bench and held hands or something. But I suspect it didn't get any further than that.

"And then Pansy dragged Draco around the town and tried to get him to be remotely interesting and fun. Like he always had been in years past. But instead he was a stick in the mud and we'll be treated to another night of Pansy crying in the dorm trying to figure out what's wrong with him," Tracey gave her opinion on how the day probably went for our friends. I didn't disagree with her assessment.

"You're probably right," I sighed. "How long before Theodore starts trying to flirt with me again,"

"March fifteenth," Tracey said. I nodded a bit. I debated taking the over-under on that date, but instead my comment went in a different direction.

"There's an ides joke in there somewhere," I said.

"A what?" Tracey asked.

"Nothing," I responded, shaking my head. "Just talking to myself."

"Unhealthy," Tracey commented. "But speaking of flirting. You going to explain the fact that you flirt with Potter?"

"I don't flirt with Potter," I responded quickly, sounding as affronted as I could manage.

"Yes, you do. You flirt with Potter almost as much as you flirt with Terry Boot, and more than you flirt with Anthony Goldstein," Tracey commented.

"I so don't flirt with them," I crossed my arms as we walked.

"Okay, fine, you smile at, giggle, and pay closer attention to those three than anyone else. I'd have put Theodore on that list, but ever since fourth year you haven't bothered with him," she commented. I didn't remember ever really liking Theodore, so I wasn't going to go there. And while I certainly talked to Terry in Muggle Studies and sat by him in Transfiguration for years I didn't think I flirted with him. Anthony was pretty much the same way, but with Runes and History. Was it flirting to just have a conversation with someone now!

"Alright fine," I conceded just to see where this conversation would go. "And where are you going with this?"

"Why are you flirting with Potter?" Tracy asked.

"Because it's fun?" I responded.

"So you're leading him on?" she asked.

"Not really," I said. Which made Tracey look at me while we walked.

"What are you doing then?" she asked, sternly. She used the same tone that my mother would use when scolding me.

"I don't know," I admitted. "He's nice. He makes me laugh. He actually talks to me about various things like books and such. I don't see a reason to be overly hostile to him."

"He's Harry Potter," she said knowingly.

"Who cares?" I asked. Tracey narrowed her eyes.

"Plenty of people," she said, and I understood her meaning. But I was too irritated to prevent myself from responding.

"Fuck them," I said. "If they're so damn worried about sixteen year olds talking to each other their priorities can't possibly be right!" I wanted to say something meaner. But I stopped myself. I'll be honest. At the end of the previous year I'd have thought Tracey and Draco would have been leading the Pureblood bandwagon. But she'd been fairly quiet about the whole thing, and Draco pretty much hadn't been around. I'd thought that perhaps they'd realized that they were simply students and the ideas were dumb. But that didn't appear to really be the case now.

"Really, Daphne?" Tracey said dryly. She didn't look angry though, which surprised me.

"Really," I said. "I mean. If people really cared about that, then I wouldn't have been randomly partnered with Harry Potter in two freaking classes. It's not like I'm seeking out his company!" Tracey was quiet for a few moments.

"I guess you have a point," she admitted. "I just worry, you know." And I knew she was fibbing. But I wasn't going to comment on it.

"And I appreciate it," I said calmly. I wanted the argument to be done. And since we were approaching the inn I suspected it would be.

"He's probably a better kisser than Jason Williams," she sighed. I could tell the comment was forced. Deep down, Tracey and I had our differences. There were reasons why often we'd only associate when Transfiguration homework was on the line. But she offered an olive branch and I took it.

"I wouldn't know," I said.

"You've got to be kidding me," she gasped.

"Nope," I admitted. "We're not that close."

"Yeah, but, kisses happen, you know. I'd have thought with the banter and what not. And when you put your lips on his cheek outside the greenhouse," Tracey said.

"That's as far as it ever went," I admitted. She shook her head.

"What a tool," she scorned. I shrugged a little bit. I'd have defended him. But I was beginning to sense there may be an annoying amount of truth in her words, so I didn't bother. And I didn't really want to get into another argument. Even if we'd kept the last one brief.

"Quiet you," I sighed. "Let's go inside and find our friends so we can tell them about all of the awesome clothing we didn't by."

"Okay, fine, after you," Tracey laughed as we stepped up to the door. She opened it up and I entered the inn. Tracey followed closely. We walked to the stairs and ascended to a small dining area where we'd planned on meeting everyone else.

I felt more nervous than I probably should have. I knew Tracey wouldn't bring up anything we said. Especially not publically. But that didn't mean some innocuous bit of teasing couldn't head in the wrong direction. But there wasn't much I could do about it. So, instead, I just walked up to the table where our friends were sitting.

They'd already ordered a bunch of food. Usually when we met like this we just split a bunch of things. And it all smelled delicious so I just pulled out a chair between Theodore and Pansy and joined in.

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. We just mostly sat around and ate and talked about nothing. The main bit of conversation was how we figured the Slytherin quidditch team would be slightly less abysmal if Draco was playing seeker. I'm not sure how many people at the table actually believed it, but the results in years past were at least better than this year.

Draco just shrugged off the comments and insisted that his heart simply wasn't in it anymore. And because of that he wouldn't help the team. You see, he'd decided against going professional and didn't see the point in wasting his time at school. And yes, he said all those things. It took every little bit of my self-control to not laugh at him. Who gives up on something like that, and then just completely refuses to play?

I don't know. I guess he had his reasons. I didn't understand it. And I wasn't going to comment on it. I just couldn't imagine loving something as much as he claimed to love quidditch and then simply giving up on it.

Of course, I didn't love anything that much. So again, perhaps I wasn't the best judge. I shrugged to myself in the middle of a conversation Tracey and Millicent were having. It drew some stares but that was pretty much the end of it.

"Should we go to the show?" Tracey asked after we were finishing up with dessert. I hadn't had any. Although it all looked amazingly delicious. Usually I jump on dessert, I just wasn't particularly in the mood. Everyone looked at me a little funny when I passed. But I guess you'll get that when at least once a week you decide to just have a brownie for dinner rather than whatever was served by the elves.

"I don't know, it never really changes," Draco sighed. Hogsmeade put on a magical 'light-show' per-say every year around Valentine's Day. They also did a similar one around Halloween. Students gathered to watch both every year. It was pretty much just magical images doing romantic and comedic things. It was cute, but Draco was right, it didn't change much.

Personally, I think the shows probably just existed in an attempt to get the students to stay later into the evening and maybe spend a little more coin at one of the restaurants in the town.

"But it's still really romantic!" Pansy sighed. She was clinging to his arm, smiling at him, and batting her eyelashes. If I was honest, it was a little disgusting.

"Fine," Draco just sighed. He looked like he wasn't particularly thrilled with agreeing to go, but that he knew better than to argue it too much. I couldn't help but wonder if Pansy had given him that ultimatum she was talking about not too long ago. He seemed to be acting a bit like a bit of a better boyfriend.

"I don't think I've ever bothered watching it," Theodore chimed in from across the table. He looked at me for a moment before he continued. "How about you, Daphne?" I looked back at him. I should have probably said something along the lines of how he should be asking Millicent, his date, that question. But that's not what I wound up saying.

"A few times," I admitted.

"Want to go to this one?" He asked. I saw Millicent glaring at me over his shoulder. Tracey was looking at me curiously too. But Draco and Pansy were kissing, lightly, across the table. Both were completely oblivious to what else was happening at the table.

"No thanks," I said. "You and Millicent should go though. They are fun."

"Oh," Theodore said. He looked a little bit startled. Like maybe he'd forgotten she was even there with him. I suppose I had been sitting next to him the entire dinner. And we'd chatted a bit. But it wasn't anything that we hadn't done in years past. Here I thought he was back to normal. He couldn't still be hung up on me? I'd made it pretty clear I wanted him to leave me alone. And he'd obliged!

"We should go, Theodore," Millicent said from behind him. He turned to look at her. At least he managed to smile and make it look like he thought it was a good idea. Exactly what Draco hadn't bothered with when Pansy conned him into going.

"Yes, we should," he responded. And about that time Madame Rosmerta showed up with the bill. I got enough of a glimpse of it as she put it down in front of Draco to start digging through my purse for my share. I gathered up the coins and tossed them onto the table.

"Do you mind if I go to the show?" Tracey asked as her coins joined mine. Everyone else was still looking for their share. She seemed to understand that after Theodore asking me before his date, there was no way I was going to trump Millicent by actually going to the thing.

"Not at all," I said. "I was just going to wander back to the castle and work on some homework. I've a ton of reading for History to get through."

"Sounds painfully boring," Tracey said. I nodded.

"It probably will be. But I have to get it done," I explained.

"And from what I remember of History, it's only worse when you put it off," she teased. I smiled a little bit, remembering the nights when the entire year would be cramming for a test in History. Well, except for me, because I was the geek that liked History.

"That it does," I agreed. "Although it's pretty amazing how similar all of the goblin rebellions are."

"Don't remind me," Tracey laughed. We all stood then, as enough money worked its way onto the table, and started leaving the establishment.

It was dark by the time we left the restaurant. Hogsmeade was even more pink by that time, too. The streetlamps were pink, and many of the decorations on the homes were glowing pink as well.

We only walked as a group for about a block before I said my goodbyes and waved them away. They continued on toward one of the smaller squares in the town where the shows were always staged. I took a different path and moved toward the carriages and back to the castle.

There was only one carriage waiting, and I noticed three students climbing into it. I groaned a little bit at the thought of waiting twenty minutes for another one. I sat on the bench when someone in the carriage spoke up.

"We have room for one more, Daphne, if you're heading back to the castle," Potter said. I wondered how I managed to keep wandering into him. But I suppose there wasn't that large of a student population at Hogwarts.

"Uhm, sure," I said. It was cold, and it beat sitting around and doing nothing for twenty minutes. This way, I could get to my reading sooner, at the very least. I moved over to the carriage and Potter helped me up into it. A moment later I found myself sitting next to him, staring at Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom.

"Hi," I said quietly. Granger crossed her arms and looked out over the scenery. It was a strikingly familiar pose.

"Hi," Longbottom responded to me. He both smiled and blushed. It was actually kind of cute.

"Hi," I said again. Potter chuckled next to me. He reached out and put an arm across the carriage, behind me, on the seat. It was both a possessive, and easily ignored, gesture. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. But he wasn't touching me so that was good. We were silent for a few moments before Granger spoke.

"Having any luck with your Runes final?" she asked quietly, looking back at us. She let her eyes focus on Potter for a moment before looking me straight in the eyes. We'd just gotten our final that week. We always had most of the second half of year to work on it. I hadn't even looked at it yet.

"No," I admitted. "I've been too busy with the reading. I haven't even had a chance to really read over the assignment."

"Oh," she frowned. "I did the rest of the reading over break. I've been planning the assignment since we got it." Of course she had. I shrugged my shoulders a bit. I couldn't tell if she was being nice, or trying to make me feel like a procrastinating idiot. But at least she was making conversation. I suppose that was better than just glaring.

"I have too much to do," I admitted. It was true, but I suspect Granger had just as much to do as I did. "I usually don't get started on it until the middle of March." And that was a lie. Usually it was more like the first week of May. And I typically finished it on an all-nighter the night before it was due.

"I like to get it done so I can study for the rest of my exams," Granger said. I'll be honest. I didn't study as much for exams as I probably should have. But I was really good at remembering the reading and pulling it out on exam day.

"Can we not talk about school," Potter laughed.

"Please," Longbottom agreed.

"What would you like to talk about then, boys?" Granger said. "If I have to hear more about how awful the last few quidditch practices have been, I'm liable to hex one of you."

"If I hear anything about quidditch I'll hex both of them," I muttered. And to my surprise, Granger laughed. And it was a real, amused laugh. Both the boys just scowled. But it was Longbottom who finally spoke.

"Well, uhm, Hermione said you met Jason Williams at Slughorn's Party. He's my favorite player. Was he nice?" Longbottom looked rather unassuming. But I couldn't help but wonder if this was some type of a setup. Why would he bring that up? Just what had Granger told him? She'd spent the entire night running away from McLaggen, and then just ran away from the party.

"Damn it, Neville," Potter cursed.

"What?" Neville asked, looking startled.

"That's a quidditch reference, we're going to get hexed now," he said. But his voice didn't have the joking quality the words should have had. I doubt he liked to think of that night.

"We didn't talk much," I said quietly. Longbottom frowned.

"Oh," he said quietly. Potter moved his arm off of the carriage and looked out over the scenery. Granger bit her lip and looked like she wasn't sure how to respond. Well, at least we were in the same boat there.

"I heard the vampire was interesting," Longbottom continued. And I suspected we weren't going to get out of talking about the party.

"Neville," Granger said softly. "I don't think we should really-"

"Harry thought he was creepy," I said. Granger and Longbottom exchanged a glance.

"No I didn't," Potter said.

"Sure you did. You kept glaring at him. And you kept moving away from him. He would have probably been interesting to meet," I explained. I was pretty indifferent on the matter, but it seemed to be a slightly safer conversation.

"That was just because he kept looking at you and licking his lips," Potter scoffed.

"Which is creepy," I commented. I hadn't noticed it ever looking at me. But the vampire looked at quite a few people that way, so it wouldn't have surprised me.

"I guess," he sighed. At least he didn't argue. The carriage pulled up to the castle at that point. I was the first to hop out. Longbottom and Granger followed me. Potter brought up the rear. I stepped off to the side and let the other two walk ahead of me. Potter didn't quite match my stride. So he remained a little bit behind me.

Our strange convoy worked its way into the castle. It was warm. And yes, that was usually my first thought. Longbottom and Granger chatted quietly about something or other while we walked. They reached the point where they'd head up to their tower and I just ignored them as I moved toward the dungeons. Until Granger spoke up.

"Harry, where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm going to walk Daphne back to the dungeons," he said. His friends just stared at him for a few moments, but we moved down the hall away from them. He stopped at another staircase and I paused to look at him.

"Dungeons aren't that way," I said.

"I want to show you something," he responded. "That is, if you're not too busy."

"I do have homework," I said. "And it's almost after hours."

"Please?" he asked. "It'll be worth it, I promise."

"Fine," I said. I'll admit. I was fairly curious. Especially because he seemed so intent on showing me.

"Alright, it's just this way," he said. And then he led me up seven freaking flights of stairs. It was very unpleasant.

"Just this way?" I said. I was pretty much panting. Potter hadn't moved slowly.

"Well, up a few floors," he said as he turned down a corridor.

"Remind me to hex you when I can breathe again," I said.

"Okay," he said as we moved down the corridor. He stopped about halfway and turned around. He took about five steps, spun on his heel and did it the same way back in the opposite direction.

"Lost?" I asked, leaning against the wall and wishing I hadn't just been forced to sprint up so many stairs.

"Quiet," he said and continued to pace. A moment later a door appeared. It looked pretty standard. He opened it and gestured me to enter. I did. He followed me, closing the door behind. We stood in a small little room, no larger than a closet. I looked at him for a moment, wondering what was so special about a closet. He has his eyes closed and looked like he was in deep thought.

"A closet?" I asked. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Not quite," he said. "Just making sure no one will bother us." And he reached out and pushed open another door, across from us, that I hadn't noticed. He held up his arm in an 'after you' gesture. So I did the only logical thing. I shrugged and walked through the door.

And I stopped after about a step. Inside the next room was fully marble room. It had a number of paintings on the walls, most of them with an aquatic motif. The marble walls stopped about fifteen feet up and changed into solid glass with golden leading creating standard square patterns up to a glass dome. The stars glittered in the night sky above, and some snow fluttered around the dome, adding to the effect.

In the middle of the room, taking up about sixty percent of it, was a sunken marble pool. There were about ten taps lining the circular cut-out, as well as countless other dispensers containing liquids and gels that I couldn't recognize from the distance. But I could assume what they were. I looked around, blinking a bit, as if I expected the room to vanish. It took me a minute to speak.

"Is this the prefect's bath?" I asked.

"No," Harry said. "I thought about that, but ever since Flitwick caught some Hufflepuffs having sex, it's been pretty monitored." I nodded a bit. I remembered hearing about that at the start of the year.

"What is this?" I asked. He just smiled at me.

"How about I draw you a bath and tell you about it?" he asked. I just looked at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn't like when people evaded questions. "There should be a changing room over there."

And sure enough, there was a door there. I hadn't noticed it before.

"I didn't bring anything to wear," I said. I wasn't about to get naked in front of Potter. He walked over to the taps and turned one on. After letting it run for a moment he stuck his hand under, then adjusted the temperature.

"There should be something there," he said. I glared at him. But the water looked so nice as it started to fill the tub. And I really, really, missed baths. And the room was kind of chilly. So I ducked into the changing room, wondering what I was doing.

He was right. There was certainly something to wear. Most department stores had less of a selection. It took me a few moments, but I picked out a conservative green bikini. I changed quickly, wrapped a towel around myself, and then stared at the wall.

What was I doing? I'm half naked, in a closet, with Harry Potter outside the door? Nothing was going to end well here. And all because you got suckered into a bath? I closed my eyes for a few moments.

He'd remembered how I lamented about missing this. And he wasn't being presumptuous. At least not in manner. Was he really just being nice? To try to make my day better? And he'd said he'd explain when I came back out. I had to know just what this room was.

So I opened the door again. He looked up at me and smiled a little bit. The water was about a third of the way full and he'd filled the tub with bubbles. I could smell their faint vanilla scent from a few feet away. I put my uniform, which I'd carried out with me, down on the ground nearby. I moved closer to the edge and gently unwrapped the towel. He stared at me. I ignored him and slipped into the water, thinking that maybe I should have put my hair up.

"Wow," he said, blushing and looking at me. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall of the tub. The warm water was slowly rising up over my body. I felt the stress from recent classes melt away as the water caressed me.

"Thank you," I said quietly. I'd let him figure out if I was thanking him for the compliment or the tub. It took him a few moments to respond.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked. I did, kind of. If I'm honest, I wanted him to leave. I wanted to just sit, alone, and enjoy the water. But that was rude.

"It's a big tub," I said.

"I'll be right back then," he said. I heard the door to the changing room open and close. And then a few moments later open again. I opened one eye to look at him as he got into the tub a few feet away from me.

"Not bad," I said. He wore dark trunks and, while skinny, was at least toned. I suspect quidditch did him good. Either that or he was very active when he was at home over the summer.

"Thanks," he said quietly. I let him relax into the water as it filled. I took the time to dunk myself under. It wasn't the most pleasant sensation with the bubbles, but it soaked my hair and allowed me to pull it behind my head and not worry about it anymore. When I emerged I spoke.

"So what is this?"

"This is where I was teaching defense last year," he said. I couldn't have heard that right.

"You were teaching defense in a bathroom? That couldn't have been safe," I commented.

"No, no no," he laughed. "This room is special."

"Explain."

"It bends itself to the will of whoever creates it," he said. "You just pace back and forth in front of the wall outside and it becomes what you want. Then, when you're inside, just think about something, and the room will make it happen." And that just made me love magic even more. A room that did whatever you wanted? How perfect!

"Why are you sharing this with me?" I asked. It seemed like something you wouldn't want anyone else to know about.

"I figured it would make up for being a terrible date," he sighed. "You said you missed baths. It's here whenever you want it." I just paused for a moment, but nodded.

"Thank you, Potter," I said.

"Daphne," he sighed. "You called me Harry on the carriage. Please stop calling-" and I splashed him with as much water as I could. He laughed after it hit him.

"I did no such thing," I scoffed.

"If you insist," he sighed. And we relaxed in silence. At some point he turned off the water. I just enjoyed the warmth. It was heaven. I stared up at the stars through the domed ceiling and couldn't help but wonder just how much of the room he controlled. If it was every little detail, well, he did a great job.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"I guess," I responded.

"What happened after the party?" his voice was quiet. I bit my bottom lip and kept my eyes firmly on the glass ceiling.

"Harry," I said slowly. "I'm not sure that's any of your business." I expected an argument of some type. At the very least a disagreement. But instead he just nodded.

"Okay," he said. But he tensed a little bit. A feat not easily accomplished in the oasis he'd created. But it wasn't any of his business! And that was that. Still I think I would have preferred conversation, to silence. So eventually, I slipped into a deeper part of the pool, and slowly moved my way over by him. I sat right next to him.

"Does it bother you that much?" I asked quietly. I wasn't quite sure how else to word my question. So I just decided to be as blunt as possible.

"No, uhm. It's not my place," he said. He spoke quickly and looked flustered.

"So it does," I said.

"A bit," he admitted. He still wasn't looking at me. I reached up and cupped his chin in my hand and turned his face so he was looking at me.

"Why?" I asked. His eyes focused on mine.

"I …uhm…don't worry about it," he stuttered.

"No, tell me," I responded almost before he'd finished speaking. Potter shook his head.

"It won't change anything," he said. I paused and thought about his words. There wasn't anything good in them.

"Change what?" I scoffed.

"No," he said, more firmly than he'd been speaking. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me!" I scoffed. And then I said it. I'm sure because I was sick of feeling it, and from getting mean comments from Tracey, Pansy and Astoria. "What, if I lost my virginity in a drunken stupor am I no longer good enough for you?"

"What?" he looked startled. He stumbled with his words more than he had since first year potions. "No. Not at all. I…I…"

"You what?" I scoffed.

"I just want to know how jealous I should be of him," Harry said quietly. I blinked a little bit. I hadn't expected that one. "And what could have happened that night if I hadn't run off."

"Not what happened with Williams," I said quietly.

"I didn't suspect as much," He said. "But I should have just kissed you."

"Duh," I said. "Do you really want to know what happened?"

"Yes and no," he said. I nodded.

"You left. I wound up walking up to Williams and kissing him. It was pleasant. He's a good kisser. After that we spent a few hours drinking, wandering around the party, and kissing. I was kind of hammered when the party wound down. We left together. And he took me to his room," I explained. Harry just kept looking at me. His expression wasn't readable.

"He poured some wine. And we drank more. We were sitting on his bed when he started to really kiss me. But I wasn't sober enough to really realize it. I'm not sure when or how he got my dress off. But he did," I paused for a few moments. It was becoming harder to breathe. It shouldn't have been. I knew that much. I was being stupid.

"Daphne," Harry said quietly. "You really don't need to tell me this if you don't want to."

"Quiet Potter," I said. "I need to. It's stupid. I know. But he ran his hands all over me. He kissed my lips, my face, my neck. And it was nice. But I felt lost, and confused. And I didn't want to be there. But I couldn't do anything. At least until he slipped his hand between my legs.

"I froze when he did it. But it sobered me up. I shot off the bed and hyperventilated pretty much. He looked so confused. Like he couldn't fathom why I didn't want his touch. I'm not sure why I didn't. It was nice. But wrong. Eventually he calmed me down and gave me a glass of water and a Tornadoes t-shirt and I walked back to my dorm and went to bed," I explained. It felt nice to have it off my chest. I knew my dorm mates wouldn't have believed me. As far as they cared, I'd gone to bed with a quidditch star and there was only one outcome.

And I couldn't argue that that outcome hadn't been likely. But I'd frozen. And then gotten so scared that I just had to be out of there. Thankfully, Jason hadn't tried to pressure me any more after that point. He'd actually laughed it off. Which may have been worse. But he'd let me leave.

I'd have probably told Astoria, and Millicent, but Astoria had been so quick to judge. And so sure that I'd done exactly what I'd lectured her on. I'd like to think that in a reversed situation, I'd have given her the benefit of the doubt, but I couldn't say that with one hundred percent certainty.

But now he knew. And it was embarrassing. I doubted he'd understand. Just as I knew my friends wouldn't understand. With how often Pansy and Tracey go on about how amazing sex is, how could I explain to my friends that I'd been so frightened of it that I'd just wanted to run away?

"That's it?" Harry asked quietly. I'd let go of his chin by then.

"Yes," I nodded. "I told you it didn't matter."

"That's not true," he said quietly. "It mattered to you." And he was right. It did. I didn't respond though. I just sat next to him in the water for a few moments. When I finally responded, I changed the subject.

"It's well after hours by now, isn't it?" I asked.

"Probably," he admitted.

"Will the room let me out wherever I'd want it to in the castle?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "I don't know."

"So I'd have to go from the seventh floor to the dungeons, after hours, and not get caught?" I asked.

"Probably," he admitted.

"But you can make the room into whatever you like?" I asked.

"Virtually," he responded. "It does have some limitations. But I can probably come close." I stood when he finished speaking and climbed out of the tub. I really didn't want to. I missed the warm water immediately. I'd walked over to where I'd dropped the towel earlier and started to dry myself. I picked my wand out of my uniform pocket and used it to dry my hair. I pulled it back behind my ears and let it fall down my back.

"I don't want to risk that walk," I said. He seemed done bathing too. He got out of the water and started to towel off as well. He didn't use his wand to help, though. So his hair stayed a little damp.

"Okay," was all he said. I stared at him for a few moments.

"So make a bedroom. And close your eyes so I can change," I said. I'd already transfigured my skirt into a pair of short, pink, cotton shorts. He just looked at me curiously for a few moments before turning away, and I presume, closing his eyes.

I took the easy way out and just transfigured my bikini bottom into some underwear and pulled on the shorts. It only took me a moment to turn my uniform undershirt into a matching tank top, and I pulled that on as well.

"Okay," I said. He turned back around as I reached up my back and undid the bikini top beneath my shirt. I peeled it off and tossed it into the pile with the rest of my clothing. A quick spell folded it all and make it into a much neater pile. I picked the pile up.

"You know, the room can create clothing," he said. "Like it did with your swimwear."

"This was easier," I shrugged. I noticed a new door in the back of the room and wandered into it.

He'd made a pretty standard hotel-esque bedroom. As a whole, it was probably half the size of the bathroom he'd made. There was just a desk, a large bed, and a couple of bedside tables, a lit lamp resting on each. He stood behind me in the doorway and spoke over my shoulder.

"Huh," he said. "I'd wanted two beds and a larger room. Usually the room does exactly what you want." I'd only suggested a bedroom, and it wasn't far off of what I considered a standard bedroom. I wondered if it was looking into my mind as well. But I shrugged off that thought. I doubted it could do anything other than abide by the will of whoever incarnated it.

"Oh well. Works for me," I said. I stepped into the room and walked around the bed. I deposited my excess clothing on the bedside table and pulled the covers back. I slid into the bed, pulling the blankets back up over me. I moved some pillows and laid pretty much smack dab in the middle of the bed.

Potter watched me for a moment but ducked into what appeared to be a closet. He emerged a moment later, as I was leaning across the bed to turn off my lamp, wearing just a pair of athletic shorts.

"Would you prefer I created my own room?" he asked. He sounded exhausted, and looked it, too. I moved back toward the middle of the bed and rolled onto my side, so my back was facing him.

"No, that's fine," I said quietly. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was unexplainably nervous as he moved to the bed. I could feel when he lifted the covers. And then he was in the bed too. But unlike me, he laid down, on his back, on the absolute far edge of the bed. He turned off his light and was perfectly still. I paused. My breath caught in my throat. But he wasn't moving.

And I mean really, Potter, what the hell? It couldn't get much more intimate than this. And he was content to lay there like a slug? Did he really not find me attractive? What was the point of this entire night then? And why did he leer at me when I was in the bikini!

After a few moments of silence my annoyance won out.

"Potter," I said quietly. "Are you still awake?"

"Yes," he responded. There wasn't even the slightest hint of sleep in his voice.

"Usually, when a girl agrees to sleep in the same bed as you, that means she wouldn't be opposed to you touching her or holding her," I said. And I got silence as a response. But he shifted. I could feel his weight move a bit closer to me. He must have propped himself up onto one of his sides.

A moment later his hand was on my shoulder. He rested it there gently for just a second before pulling me down onto my back. And I found myself staring into the green eyes of Harry Potter as he was propped on an elbow, looking down at me.

And then, finally, his lips were on mine. He tasted sweet. I closed my eyes and returned his kisses. They were soft and kind. There was no pressure in his touch. It felt like all he wanted to do was kiss me. And so we kissed.

I'm not sure how long it lasted. But it seemed like a while. His lips stayed on mine. When his finally slipped from mine I just smirked a little bit.

"Finally," I said. He just blushed and looked away. "Only dragged you under mistletoe twice at the party." Of course, then I wasn't sure what I wanted. Then again, I wasn't sure now. But he was sweet, and attractive, and he was so very nice. I could do a lot worse. Certainly, all of my 'in-house' options were already a lot worse. He brought his eyes back to mine.

"Can we do that again?" he asked, sheepishly. He had his unassuming smile plastered back onto his face. I just giggled and rolled back onto my side in the bed.

"Later," I said, yawning a little bit. I wasn't' that tired, but I didn't want to get carried away. He just frowned.

"Please?" he asked. I just reached behind me and found one of his arms and pulled it around my waist. He got the idea and pulled me back to his chest.

"Sleep," I said. "Tired now." And I closed my eyes. He didn't respond. At least not with words. Instead he just pressed his face into my hair and took a deep breath. I just leaned back into his warmth as much as I could and was asleep within moments.

Author's Note: Chapter 13 has around 5800 words completed at the time of posting. Hopefully, I'll get it out by the end of the week. As always, the best way to contact me is through a PM on the website as I try to respond to all of those that I receive. I'll talk about most things as long as they aren't major plot points.

Thanks for all the reviews and support. I do appreciate every bit of it.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, QuiteMike, Righteous Dreams and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 13

Potter woke up before I did. I know this because he woke me up by trying to get out of bed. I'm not sure at what point we switched from spooning, to me sprawled on top of him. But it had happened during the night. My eyes were still heavy, though, and I didn't want to be awake. Of course, whenever I was warm and wrapped in blankets I didn't want to be awake, regardless of whatever time it happened to be.

"Stop moving, Potter," I groaned into his neck as he wiggled a little bit more. "Trying to sleep here."

"It's like ten, Daphne," Potter said. I groaned a little bit. No wonder I was still tired.

"Two more hours," I groaned. It was a weekend after all.

"You sleep later than Ron," he laughed quietly. "And I have quidditch practice, Daph." I don't think he'd used the diminutive before. I didn't really mind. But I never really minded. It was easier.

"Be late," I ordered. He chuckled quietly.

"I'm the captain. I'm not allowed to be late. I'm supposed to be twenty minutes early," he explained. But he'd stopped trying to get out from underneath me. At least for the time being. So I just closed my eyes and buried my face into the crook of his neck. I let my lips trace over his skin. He let out a little contented sigh.

"See," I sighed a little bit. "Just be on time then. No one will mind."

"No one except Cormac," Harry sighed. "He already seems to think it should be his team. And he's not even on the freaking team. Although with how Ron is playing… Anyway, it doesn't matter. I can't give him some excuse to try a coup."

"Is that even allowed?" I asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Harry responded. "But knowing Cormac it wouldn't surprise me if he tried anyway."

"So trouble in the pride?" I asked. He didn't respond and I suspected he hadn't seen the Lion King.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm asking if I should bet heavily against you this weekend," I teased. He shook his head.

"I'll catch the snitch," he said confidently. But I could sense some bravado in his voice. Like he wasn't sure how crucial the snitch catch would be. I guessed it must really suck to have a bad keeper.

"But are you going to win?" I asked. I didn't really care too much about the answer, but the more I talked the less he moved.

"Hope so," he sighed. "But I really do need to get to practice, Daphne." I just sighed. Part of me wished I weighed a little more so I could pin him. But it only took me a second to shake that thought out of my head.

"Do you want to make out instead?" I asked quietly. It was pretty much the only card I had left.

"Yes," he said pretty much instantly, so I shifted around until I was pretty much straddling him and kissed him. He slid his hands to my hips and kissed me back. He held me in place for a few moments, letting his lips mesh with mine. But then he pushed me off of him and back onto the bed.

"Hey!" I gasped. That half of the bed was actually fairly chilly. I wiggled back toward him. But he slipped out of the bed and I couldn't do much more than grab at the warmth where his body had been.

"Practice," he said quickly. He slipped quickly into the closet he'd created last night. I just sighed and sat up on the bed for a few moments. Part of me wondered if I should just con him into creating a closet for me, or of I should just re-transfigure my clothing. I didn't quite trust magically created clothing. So I transfigured the necessary pieces back into my school uniform.

He emerged from the closet as I was pulling my sweater down over my shirt. He was wearing a Gryffindor quidditch uniform. The room must have been incredibly handy. He tilted his head and looked at me.

"So you're getting up?" he asked. I must have really looked lazy when I was just laying on him. Of course, my body betrayed me and I yawned. At least I managed to cover my mouth with my hand.

"May as well," I sighed and stretched my arms over my head. Potter watched me intently as I did. I didn't mind that he watched. I thought about making a comment about how the view had been better in the bed, but I couldn't get the wording right. "I was planning on doing a bunch of reading last night. So if I don't get it done this morning I'll just wind up behind."

"What class?" Potter asked. He moved out toward what should have been the bathroom he'd created the night before. But instead I noticed it was the seventh floor corridor. I followed him out.

"Runes and History are the ones I really need to get done. And I could probably benefit from doing about a hundred pages of Muggle Studies, too," I said. I noticed a young girl who I vaguely recognized looked a bit shocked by our appearance before she turned and ran down the hallway. Harry looked at me for a moment before watching her go.

"So do you scare your classmates as well, or is she just running from me," he asked.

"All you," I responded.

"Well do me a favor when you get back to the common room," he laughed, shaking his head and looking down at the ground. "Tell her I don't bite."

"But I don't know that for sure," I responded carefully.

"Really?" He asked, but he was smiling.

"Really," I said. "I don't know her anyway. It would be a little strange for me to just walk up to her and start discussing Harry Potter."

"You don't know her?" he asked. He sounded rather surprised by that. I tilted my head to look at him.

"Do you know all the first year Gryffindors?" I asked.

"Valid point," he commented. "I think I probably do, though. If I thought about it long enough."

"Well I've been busy this year," I countered. Although I probably couldn't name most of the second years, either. The thirds, fourths, and fifths I knew fairly well though. But I suspect some of that was because many of them were friends with Astoria.

It wasn't that I didn't care to learn their names or what not. I just wasn't really good with faces and our house was really insular. And that included our little in-house groups. Astoria was one of the few that mingled with people in multiple years. But our common room was typically divided by year and gender. It wasn't until around my fourth year that I began to think something of that.

"With all sorts of reading, apparently," he commented as we started to make our way down the seven flights of moving stairs toward the main level of Hogwarts.

"Yes. Lots and lots of reading. Don't you have tons of homework too?" I asked. Although, while my friends had more than they had in previous years, nothing they had matched what I had. But that was mostly because I had a ton of reading for two of my classes. Transfiguration, Herbology, and Runes remained mostly the same. Defense was more actual work. But it wasn't any more than Snape had given in Potions, so I considered that a push as well. It really just boiled down to the fact that it was a lot of reading. And reading took time.

"Some," he admitted. "But it's nothing unmanageable. With the way you're going on it's like you read as much as Hermione." I really didn't like being compared to Granger. After all, I was taller, thinner, and prettier. And I'm pretty sure Granger didn't cuddle with him at night. If she did we'd have to have words.

"I do not," I scoffed. Then I realized I was claiming that I didn't read. And that made me sound annoyingly petty and worried about how other students saw me. So I just decided that would be a good point to stop talking.

"You'd be surprised," Potter said. "Except she's usually just prattling on about whatever she's reading for fun and telling Ron and I that we should both read more."

"Do not compare me to Granger," I said as angrily as I could. I would have stormed off ahead of him. But the staircases weren't cooperating. So instead I stood next to him and fumed.

"Have I hit a nerve, Daphne?" he asked, cheerfully. He tilted his head to the side and stared at me.

"No," I lied quickly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes I have. You only ever do that when you're annoyed," he said, leaning against a banister as the staircase took its sweet time in moving. I stared back at him.

"What?"

"Cross your arms like that. It's your default 'leave me alone' gesture. You used to do it all the time in Herbology when I'd tell you to help me. You'd be all 'do it yourself Potter," he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. His impression of me was annoyingly close.

"Okay, fine," I said, dropping my arms to my sides and doing my best effort to hold them there. "You hit a nerve."

"I don't understand why," he shrugged. "She's kind, smart, and an incredible friend who's willing to give you the benefit of the doubt in just about every case."

"I don't want to be compared to some girl you spend all your time with. It makes me feel inadequate," I spoke as stiffly as I could. I was trying to guilt him into being nicer to me. It wasn't working. And I was starting to get the impression that it wouldn't work. But I was still going to try.

"Jealous?" he asked. We started to move down the stairs again at that point. There were only like four more gigantic staircases and a few corridors before I could be rid of him. Which just caused a bit of an annoying realization. I didn't really want to be rid of him. Despite my general bitchy demeanor, I was actually having fun. Even though he was pissing me off, he was annoyingly fun to be around.

"Of course not!" I argued. I went to cross my arms over my chest again. But he'd just made fun of me for that so I put them down. It was far too easy to slip into an old habit.

"I already told you she's like my sister," he sighed. Yea, he had. He'd also told me to go make out with Astoria, which was a mental image and thought I wanted absolutely no part of again. But his freaking sister comment just reminded me of that conversation. Thanks, Potter. I appreciate it.

"Which just makes it all the better," I responded, sarcastically. I even managed a nice shoulder shrug on 'all'. Impressive, I know.

"How's that? I've told you I'm not interested in Hermione," he asked. And he sounded curious. So rather than scoff at him I answered honestly. Well, as honestly as I ever do.

"Because I want you to be interested in me," I said. Which just made him look even more confused. He looked somewhat cute when he was confused. He tilted his head and ran a hand through his hair, which messed it up even more than usual.

"I am interested in you," he said. And it was nice to hear. Yes, I'm that petty.

"Then why are you comparing me to the girl you think of as your sister! That's really how to make a girl feel wanted, Potter," I scoffed. I would have thought that was obvious. But he did seem to always need to be pointed in the right direction.

"That's why it bothers you?" Potter asked.

"Of course it is!" I didn't quite yell, but I did raise my voice a bit. He shook his head at me.

"I can assure you I don't think of you as a sister," he said quietly. A blush rose in his cheeks and part of me really wanted to ask just how he thought about me. And just what he thought about when he was alone. But that's not where I went.

"Then don't lump me in with Granger," I scoffed.

"You two share many fine qualities-" he started. But I didn't let him finish that conversation.

"Don't," I ordered.

"You're bossy," he sighed. I paused and looked at him. We were moving down the stairs to the second floor by that point. The sun was filtering in through the leaded-glass windows. It looked like he'd have a pretty good day for Quidditch practice.

"Yeah, well, just do what I say and things will work out wonderfully," I nodded knowingly. I meant the comment to be teasing. But judging from his reaction it didn't' go over quite how I intended.

"You'll have to get better at Herbology in a hurry then, because if I'm only listening to your orders we're never going to get done in class on time," he countered. It was a valid point. I was far better at just doing what I was told there, rather than trying to figure out how to tackle the current plant we were working on.

"Shush," I said. It was the best comment I could come up with.

"Tell you what. How about we make a deal?" he asked. I wanted to pretty much just say no. But I couldn't help but wonder just what type of a deal he would have.

"Depends on the deal," I said carefully. I eyed him as I spoke, attempting to convey that I thought he was being suspicious.

"Aren't you Slytherins supposed to be all into shady deals and trying to outsmart people? Isn't that what you get your rocks off on?" He asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Do all you Gryffindors get your rocks off on charging blindly into some situation and relying on dumb luck to save you?"

"Yes," he responded, matter-of-factly. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine, then yes," I said, shaking my head. We'd reached the first level. He'd paused by the hallway I'd take to the dungeons, but I'd just kept walking toward the grounds. He got the message and followed so I continued. "You know, you make a pretty terrible Gryffindor then. Or you'd have taken a chance on kissing me earlier."

"Shush," he responded. And his impression of me was improving.

"Fine, fine," I said. "What was your deal?"

"Oh that. Well that's easy. I won't go comparing you to Granger if you stop calling me Potter." I paused for a moment. That was a silly deal. I probably wasn't going to call him Potter much longer anyway. So I was pretty much guaranteed to win that one. But still, I couldn't resist teasing him a bit more.

"Can I call you Pots?" I asked, coyly.

"No," he responded.

"Harold?"

"If you want, I guess. That would probably just irritate me. Just Harry would be the best," he was taking this very seriously.

"Harrison?" I continued. Unfortunately I was running out of H names that could be construed to have Harry as a diminutive. And I figured it was probably best to save a few of them.

"Again, no," he responded.

"Fine, I agree," I said. He smirked at me as we approached the doors that lead outside. He paused outside the doors.

"Fantastic," he said. "And I'll make sure that I never reference Hermione around you again." And I realized I'd probably lost the bet. Because there was likely no way that would ever happen. But I shrugged anyway, because that was about the only thing I could think of to do.

"Just shut up and go practice quidditch," I said. I checked my watch. "You're going to be late if you sit around here much longer."

"Stupid staircases," he groaned as he realized he'd pretty much have to sprint to the pitch to make it on time.

He turned to head outside. But then he turned around. And leaned toward me. And before I quite realized what he was doing, he gave me a very light kiss on the lips. A moment later, before I could even think to kiss him back, he was outside. I paused in the entryway and blinked. The last time I'd been randomly kissed I'd wanted to slap the kisser. But now I wanted to chase after him and return the kiss.

I shook the thought out of my head. I debated going and watching the Gryffindor quidditch practice. But I suspected most of the team wouldn't take too kindly to having me in the stands. So instead I just spun on my toes and headed off toward the dungeons, wondering if any of my classmates noticed my absence from the night before.

Naturally, the short answer to that was yes. They noticed. I'm not sure why I was surprised. I'm sure in the reverse situation I'd probably notice too. I mean, it was pretty clear every night that Pansy spent away from the dormitory. Although those were growing sparser as the year rolled on.

At least they didn't ambush me as soon as I entered the common room. I appreciated that. Sort of. Instead they let me head up to the dormitory. I was quiet, because it appeared that Pansy was still sleeping. I gathered up my books and moved back down to the common room. I figured I'd start with history and go from there.

So I moved back down to the common room and found my usual couch near the fireplace. The I leaned toward the green flames as I opened the book and started on the one-hundred page weekend assignment. Thankfully, I didn't have to write a paper. Or even worse, summarize what I read.

Those assignments were the worst! Why the hell would a professor have us summarize the reading? What's the point of that? Did they just not feel like doing the reading? I'm sure they'd give the students some line about making sure it was done. But, more accurately, it was making sure I wasted an hour writing what I'd just spent an hour reading. If the professors cared that much about making sure the reading was done, then just have a quick quiz to start the class. Save us all time.

Of course, I'd probably spend an hour trying to pick out quiz questions. But it was at least slightly less irritating than summarizing the reading.

The reading was that bad. At the very least it wasn't on goblin rebellions. Instead it was on how both Muggle and Magical societies evolved in the Early Modern Era. Or the late Renaissance if you prefer.

Most of our history was like that this year. It was tracking how things changed and the lead up to the Statue of Secrecy. In the next week or two we were going to go over the statute itself. And then move onto magical history after the statute. Part of me hoped Binns would get into the time between the passing of the Statute of Secrecy and the Victorian Era, as I wondered why so many of our customs seemed to stop developing at that time.

But I suspected he'd skip over that bit, and that if I really cared I'd have to do a whole bunch of research and try to figure it out myself. Which actually sounded like a fun idea, if I ever had a surplus of time on my hands.

Anyway, I stopped daydreaming of what I wished the class was about and instead focused on what the class was actually about. The reading wasn't as painful as I expected. But that could just be because I was comparing it to _Atlas Shrugged_. Thankfully that unit was winding down.

I'd gotten through about two-thirds of the reading before Millicent sat down on the couch next to me. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have a book or notes or anything so I figured she probably wanted to talk.

"How was your night?" I asked. I figured it would be the safest to focus the conversation on her. Maybe that would lead her to not comment on me.

"Fine until the stupid light show," she said sternly. I tried to keep reading. But I could already tell I was going to wind up distracted. Still, I hoped I could squeeze out a few more pages as it would make me all the closer to being done. I couldn't help but wonder if that had something to do with why Pansy was still in bed. She almost never slept in. On the flip side, she was also almost always the first to bed.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'm not even sure in total. I was paying more attention to myself and Theodore than anything else. And that didn't go well," she said. I couldn't help but be a little amused. Maybe if there was trouble with everyone else they really wouldn't have noticed me. Perhaps they assumed that for the first time in six years I actually got up early and went to breakfast!

"Well what happened there," I asked. "Maybe I can help?"

"I doubt it. Theodore just didn't seem to want to be there the entire time," she sighed. "I ignored it. But it just got worse."

"How so?" I asked. I couldn't imagine any way that a date with Theodore could get worse. But I was about to be enlightened!

"I can normally get him to talk, you know?" she said. I didn't know. But I suppose Theodore could talk for a while if one got him started. I hadn't ever paid that close of attention to it. But I had probably unintentionally used it as a strategy before.

"I guess," I said when she was quiet for long enough that it indicated she was looking for a response. I shrugged my shoulders too, to feign interest.

"Well he wouldn't talk during the show. Sure, a few words here or there, but that was it. At first I didn't think much of it. I just assumed he was enjoying the show. So I tried to hold his hand. He let me. Kind of. Every few minutes he'd like stretch or shake it out or something. So I fumed for the majority of the show," she recounted the night before. It sounded like a pretty terrible date. But I couldn't really comment. Up to this point it wasn't like I had a history of being on fantastic dates.

"I see," I said quietly. "And what happened after the show then?" I asked. I did some quick mental math. The show probably ended around the same time I was getting into the bathtub. So they'd probably left the village shortly after, and likely made it back to the common room just before lights out.

"Well I was going to ask him if he wanted to grab a butterbeer or a hot chocolate to go and then head back to the castle. I was kind of hoping to lounge around and kiss him a bit in the carriage," she explained. As mean as it was for me to think, that was a mental image I didn't really want in my head. In fact, I think I preferred the thought of making out with Astoria. Wow, I must have really detested Theodore even more than I thought.

"And I take it that didn't happen?" I asked, although that part of the story was pretty obvious.

"It did not," Millicent sighed. "Instead the next thing I knew, Pansy was making a bit of a scene right in the middle of the street. Draco was just staring at her. He looked bored."

"I can see Pansy making a scene over that. Especially with how she's been on Draco's case lately. I'm surprised he'd be dumb enough to do something stupid last night. Hadn't she pretty much given him an ultimatum?" I asked. I remembered Pansy going on about how she was going to a few nights ago. But I hadn't been around to see just what happened with that one.

"She said she was going to. I'm not sure if she did," Millicent asked.

"To the best of my knowledge, she didn't," Tracey said. She'd walked up behind us and was leaning against the couch. She took the time to vault over it, nearly taking me with her. She then slipped around and sat on a chair to my side. "She wanted to. But you know how often he's been around."

"Did you catch what was going on with them?" Millicent asked Tracey.

"Yes, Draco made his disdain for the show known about halfway through. He told Pansy he had more important things to do and wanted her permission to leave. She said no and they got into a bit of a huff. That's when Draco told Theodore they were leaving and the two of them stormed off, leaving us standing there," Tracey explained. I winced a bit at that. Maybe I wasn't the only snake who got ditched unceremoniously.

"They didn't," I gasped.

"They did," Millicent responded.

"No way," I shook my head.

"Yes way. And to make matters worse I got to be the shoulder to cry on for both of them. You so owe me Daphne," Tracey teased. Millicent glared at her. I could tell she wasn't in the mood to be jovial about it. And I didn't really blame her.

"I broke things off with Theodore this morning," Millicent sighed. "Just before breakfast."

"How did that go?" Tracey asked.

"Poorly," Millicent admitted. "I don't think he really cared one way or another. He just let me yell at him for a little bit and didn't try to argue or anything when I told him I didn't want to do anything with him anymore."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. I doubted she'd hold it against me, but I was pretty much the one that had paired them up. Or at the very least I'd directed Theodore to Millicent a couple of times earlier in the semester. I never thought they'd wind up doing anything together. But I remember being pleasantly surprised when they had.

"Not your fault," Millicent snapped. I winced a bit. I don't think she meant to sound as hostile as she did, but there was some bitterness there.

"What about Pansy and Draco?" I asked. Deferring the subject seemed to be the best idea in the situation.

"Nothing yet," Tracey sighed. "Pansy hasn't crawled her ass out of bed yet."

"Do you blame her?" Millicent defended our mutual friend. "She thought Draco was going to marry her when they graduated."

"Well that's stupid," Tracey sighed. "He's been less and less interested in her for the last two years."

"Maybe," Millicent said. "But their parents are close. And they've known each other since they were like five."

"I guess," Tracey shrugged. While I agreed with her premise, I wasn't sure she was the right person to be arguing this point. After all, she thought that her gallivanting playboy of a boyfriend was going to marry her as soon as she graduated. And we all knew that wasn't remotely near happening.

"Will they stay together?" I asked. I guess I didn't really care either way. But things were always a bit easier when there was harmony in the common room, and not just an excess of tension and people avoiding each other.

"I doubt it," Tracey said. "She was furious last night. I think she may have cursed him if he'd stuck around longer. Unless he does something amazingly awesome for her, she's going to kick him to the curb."

"You really think?" I asked. She must have been even more furious with Draco than she'd let on. I always assumed that they'd just work through whatever issues they had at school and that they'd wind up married. So I guess I could understand why Pansy's train of thought apparently hadn't been that different.

"I do," Millicent added. Tracey just nodded when she spoke.

"Damn," I sighed. I dog-eared my history book, since I wasn't getting anywhere at all by this point. It irritated me a little bit, mostly because I'd come so close to finishing the assignment. But I could always get back to it. And Runes shouldn't take me that long once I got going.

"Yes, it's very sad," Tracey sighed. I could tell she was sick of the conversation. Her gaze turned right to me. "But now to more important matters. Where were you last night?"

"The castle?" I responded dumbly.

"Not going to get away with that," Tracey countered. I shrugged my shoulders like I wasn't going to add anything more to the conversation. Unfortunately I was betrayed by my annoying little sister.

"Well she took a carriage ride back to the castle with Harry Potter," Astoria said. I blinked a little bit. How the hell did she know that?

"You didn't," Millicent gasped.

"I did," I responded slowly. "But how did you know that, Astoria?"

"We weren't that far behind you. Saw the carriage start leaving and then heard Potter invite you on. Was a bit surprised when you actually agreed to go with him," she sighed. I guess that makes sense. I hadn't checked behind me while I was walking. It wasn't like I expected I was being stalked.

"Well you should have like yelled out or something," I responded.

"I was going to until I saw you get into the carriage," she said.

"You really did?" Tracey laughed. Her eyes shifted between my sister and me.

"I did," I sighed.

"Why?" Millicent asked.

"Seemed like a better idea than waiting around for another one to show up. There weren't any waiting at the time," I sighed. It was a passable, and probably acceptable excuse. They seemed to buy it.

"She's got you there, Astoria," Millicent laughed. "I hate waiting for another carriage at night. It always seems to take forever."

"Just with Potter?" Tracey asked.

"No. Granger and Longbottom were there. Just the one open seat," I sighed.

"So how'd that go?" Astoria asked. "He's cute!"

"Longbottom or Potter?" I asked. I probably wouldn't have added her second sentence had our roles been reversed.

"Potter," Astoria clarified.

"It was fine," I said. "We didn't do much. Just chatted about our Transfiguration homework. Granger tried to talk about the Runes final."

"Figures," Tracey snorted.

"Boring," Astoria commented.

"And how did that prevent you from winding up in your own bed last night?" Millicent observed. I frowned a little bit. Looks like humor wasn't going to get me out of this one. It didn't prevent me from trying, though.

"I'm a transfiguration groupie?" I joked.

"Ew," Astoria said.

"Don't knock it till you try it," I laughed. Thankfully, the girls laughed with me. But Millicent stopped first and continued on with the conversation.

"Just answer the question," she teased. I thought of the best lie I could.

"We just got caught out after lights out and hid in a room on the fourth or fifth floor," I sighed.

"How did you manage that one? You had to have been back at least an hour before then," Tracey laughed.

"Lost track of time?" I shrugged.

"Doing what?" Tracey asked.

"You slut!" Astoria exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" I really didn't like how insulting that sounded from her.

"First Williams and now Potter! In like two months! You're such a slut!" She exclaimed. People in the common room were looking over at our little corner now. Which was just fantastic. Thanks for drawing attention to us, Astoria.

"Oh yea, that's me," I scoffed. "You're slutty virgin sister."

"Don't give me that," Astoria laughed. I just glared at her.

"It's true," I responded as sternly as I possibly could.

"The slutty part or the virgin part?" Tracey commented.

"Not helping, Tracey." I glared at her that time, rather than at Astoria.

"If it's true then why wouldn't you talk to me about Professor Slughorn's party?" Astoria's voice was more meek than it had been at the start of the conversation.

"Because I didn't want to talk about it," I explained. Although it wasn't really that much of an explanation.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because I didn't want to think about it," I said, hoping that would end the conversation. But I was talking to Astoria and should have known better.

"Why not?" she asked again.

"Because I didn't like how the night ended up." I claimed.

"Because you slept with him?" Astoria asked.

"No," I said quickly.

"Because you didn't sleep with him?" Astoria inquired.

"No," I said.

"You don't make any sense!" Astoria pretty much yelled. I rolled my eyes.

"You'll understand more when you're older. It was a bad night. And there was no reason to revisit it. I didn't want to and you certainly didn't need to know what happened," I explained. I knew she wouldn't like my answer.

"Oh that's bullshit," she argued.

"Maybe," I said calmly. I knew losing my temper wouldn't help my cause.

"And I think you're making it up. You were drunk," she countered. I just nodded.

"I was. But I know what happened." I said.

"If you insist," she responded immediately. And I knew there was pretty much no chance she was going to agree with me. So I gave up. It wasn't like there was really anything else I could do. Astoria would believe whatever she wanted to believe. At least I could hope that Tracey and Millicent would give me the benefit of the doubt.

"So you spent the whole night with him and didn't sleep with him?" Tracey asked. She had her head tilted to the side and was looking at me curiously.

"Yes," I responded.

"What the hell did you do then?" she asked. I just shrugged at her words.

"You know, just kind of lazed around and talked," I answered. I guess it wasn't entirely a lie.

"Sounds like a waste of time," Tracey commented. I just shrugged a little bit.

"I guess," I said.

"He is cute," Astoria commented idly.

"Ew," Tracey said.

"Ew," Millicent agreed.

"What!" Astoria commented. "He's has to be in the top five in the year."

"Not even close," Tracey laughed.

"Probably only the third best looking Gryffindor in his year," Millicent commented. I just gathered my book back up and resumed reading. I was pretty thankful that Astoria managed to distract Tracey and Millicent. I doubted she did it intentionally. Astoria wasn't quite that cunning. But it worked out.

They left me alone for the time being. Their conversation immediately went back to Draco and Pansy, so I suspected they had bigger things on their mind than whatever harmless bit of contact there was between Harry Potter and I.

But that first little reprieve didn't last more than a day. By the time the next week rolled around, my housemates all really just looked at me funny. There were all sorts of rumors. I should have expected that, I guess.

Some of the rumors were fairly harmless. Like the ones that I was dating Harry Potter. Or the ones that I was just using him to cash in on his fame. Or the ones that had me developing some marriage pact with him. A few of the harmless rumors amused me. I had to laugh at what I overheard, and what people would believe.

The younger years were the worst. I had first and second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws approach me to ask all sorts of impertinent questions about Harry Potter. Most of which I couldn't answer. Some of which I wouldn't answer. And many of which I wondered how they thought of, and why they thought I'd care.

But each time that it happened my friends just glared at me. I'd try to be nice. I mean they were just silly kids. But that didn't matter. After each time there were mean comments made. And I was told I should avoid Harry Potter.

I don't know who started the mean rumors. But they were harder to deal with. Boys in the fifth through seventh years looked at me differently. Again, I expected some of it after the rumors about Jason started. But it spread even more about Potter.

Behind my back I'd hear people mutter about how I was a slut, a whore, and a temptress. That I had obviously charmed or poisoned him. That there was no way he could be interested in me. And no way I could be interested in him. Some of the words hurt. Some of the words didn't.

Really, it was the stares that were the worst part. More and more often they looked at me like a piece of disregarded meat. And more and more often there'd be an implying tone in someone's voice.

I never heard him directly. But I'd heard that Potter defended me once or twice. I wasn't sure how that went. But it didn't help matters. Mostly I just kept doing what I was doing. I'd have liked for something to be different, or for things to have somehow changed. But they didn't.

And then, surprisingly, Potter got too busy for me. He still smiled and was helpful in class But we talked less and he looked so worn out and tired every time we were in class that I didn't want to press him on anything.

Harry also spent far too much time playing quidditch. It seemed like every free moment he had he was on the pitch. I didn't ask him about it. But it was easy to understand why. He wanted to win and he had to train a new member of the team.

All because Weasley went and got poisoned.

I mean I know I shouldn't blame him for that. And I know there's all sorts of rumors about what happened and what was supposed to happen. For what it's worth I didn't really believe the rumors. It seemed like a bit too much of a fantasy that someone would give someone a bottle and hope that bottle would wind up a gift and then consumed by someone else. I mean, if you want to poison someone, poison them. Don't beat around the bush for months and pray it winds up in the right hands.

But while Weasley may have inadvertently saved someone's life by drinking some poisoned mead, he also dominated Harry's time. I was tempted to visit him in the hospital, but I didn't think even I could get away from that. And it didn't help that Pomfrey had extra precautions in place in case anyone tried something. I didn't want to accidentally trigger some sort of suspicion.

Long story short, it was a very long week. And probably longer for others than it was for me. But I didn't particularly care about them. By the time the next weekend rolled around I didn't really want to do more than lay in bed and avoid everyone. And yes, I do realize that's what I normally want to do. But I wanted to do it more than usual.

The common room was deserted by the time I wandered down. Which made sense, considering there was yet another quidditch match. Oh well, after today the season would be pretty much over. So that was a plus. I couldn't help but wonder, albeit briefly, why they didn't hold matches in the warmer months. But I suppose the professionals played nearly year round.

I wandered down to breakfast, well, lunch. The Great Hall was also fairly empty. So I just grabbed half of a sandwich and proceeded toward the quidditch pitch while eating. Amazingly enough I managed to not get any of the sandwich on me while I walked. Personally, think there should be some type of a medal for that.

The match had already started by the time I arrived. There was a relatively low score, though, so I assumed it couldn't have been going on for long. Of course, had I bothered to put on my watch, or check a clock, I'd have known for sure.

I wondered why I bothered coming to the match. I mean, sure, I attended the majority of them. But the last one had been so damn cold. And I'd left like halfway through when I had a vested, house-related interest in it. Now I had no such interest. And I had all sorts of things I could be getting done instead.

On the flip side, it was warmer. And I'd grabbed my pack before I'd left the dorm, so I had one of my books. If I got really bored by the match, which I suspected I would, I could always bury my nose in that and get a whole bunch of reading done.

Of course, it always felt good to be out and about amongst my friends too. And that held true, even if I was starting to feel a bit like a pariah in the house. But I'm sure most of that was in my imagination. It wasn't like they were anything other than jealous. And I wasn't going to do anything to give them any sort of reason to think I was more of a loner than I had been in the last week.

I grabbed some hot chocolate from a concession stand before moving to the seating bowl. I sat amongst my housemates, but not really with any of my friends. No one seemed to notice. Really I just plopped down in the only open seat in the area.

I stared up toward the match. Not that I really cared. I suspected it wouldn't be too long before I moved on to the book rather than watched. I wasn't overly familiar with any of the Hufflepuff players. Sure, I knew a few of them, but purely because we'd been going to school for years together.

Eventually my eyes rested on Potter. He was flying around like a maniac. It appeared he was trying to end the match as quickly as possible. And with how often he had to stop and fly over to his hoops to yell at his keeper, that seemed like it was probably a good idea. At the very least, it didn't look like Potter's Gryffindor quidditch squad put much stock in defense. Or maybe their strategy was to have Cormac nowhere near the hoops. I don't know, I'm not a coach.

But I just kept watching him. I didn't really have anything better to do. It was interesting to keep an eye on one specific player during the course of the game. It wasn't something I'd ever done before. And I'm sure it would have been more entertaining if he was actually playing seeker and not paying Team Captain.

Anyway, I became so engrossed that I barely noticed when two people sat on either side of me.

"Hello Daphne," Theodore Nott said. I turned my gaze to him for a brief moment. He looked pretty normal in a heavier uniform. He was very clean and well kempt. An interesting contrast to Draco Malfoy, who I noticed was the person who sat on the other side of me. He looked bored, exhausted, and like he really needed a shower.

"Teddy," I said quietly. I turned my gaze back to the match. But I didn't look for Potter this time. Really, I didn't look for anyone, I just stared upwards.

"Watching your boyfriend?" He asked. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that he winced at his name. I'm not sure why he hated the diminutive so much. If I winced every time someone called me Daph, well I'd have long days.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I responded, snottily.

"That could be rectified fairly easily," Theodore responded. His voice was a bit sterner than it needed to be for such a comment. I laughed.

"Uh-huh," I said. "I'm sure it could."

"You've been stressed this year," Theodore said. "It would be very easy to make the worries go away." I turned my gaze back to him. How the hell had he known I'd been stressed? I mean I don't think it was that obvious, especially for how self-absorbed my housemates were. And the only person I'd talked to about it was….

Millicent.

Figures.

"Uh-huh," I said again. My parents would be so proud of how I'd reverted to monosyllabic grunts.

"So it is something you would be interested in," it was apparently Draco's turn to talk. They were very thick, weren't they.

"Uh-no," I said.

"Why not?" Theodore shook his head. It was clear he couldn't believe me.

"Because I know how Pureblood families work. And I'm not at all interested in that," I said. "We've had this conversation before. At least twice." But I doubted he remembered that. It was something that had come up since about our second year, on varying occasions. And it was like they just sat around waiting for my stance to change. It hadn't, and it wouldn't.

"You don't want a family?" Draco asked. I rolled my eyes and went back to watching the game.

"Have one," I responded sarcastically. It was easier than doing into the details that they'd ignored in other conversations.

"That's a ridiculous answer," Theodore responded. "Don't you want your own family. That you made yourself. You know, kids."

"No," I responded nearly before he finished speaking.

"Why not?" Theodore gasped.

"Because I don't," I said. "I have other things I want to do."

"Even if you didn't need money?" Theodore asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Even if I don't need the money," I responded.

"Rather help Muggles like her blood-traitor father," Draco mumbled under his breath. I lifted my arm and swung it, closed fist, as hard as I could right into his stomach. He gasped and bent over, gagging for air.

"Ouch," Theodore said. He leaned across me to get a better look at Draco before resting back into his seat. "And you know as well as I do that Daphne's parents are not Blood Traitors."

"Thank you, Theodore," I responded sternly.

"You're welcome. Now Daphne, why do you not want children?" he asked.

"I'm indifferent on children," I said. "I don't want to wind up married and pregnant at seventeen like it seems is popular amongst young married Slytherins." I vaguely remembered a married couple from our house when I was in my second year. I believe they'd wed as soon as they hit majority, which was over our Christmas break. If I recalled correctly she'd had their first daughter around the next August.

"I just don't understand why not," Theodore asked. I suppose it at least sounded like he was trying. I sighed and shook my head.

"Because I want to do other things. I want to get into law. I want to actually be able to take care of myself."

"But you wouldn't have to," he argued.

"That's not the point, Teddy. I want to." I responded.

"And Potter is a better option for that than, say, me?" he asked.

"I'm not dating Potter," I responded.

"But he'll allow you to go to school after Hogwarts?" He asked. Fuck if I knew, I thought, I never talked to him about it!

"You just don't get it, Teddy," I said.

"He's scum," Draco coughed. I was rather proud of myself for hitting him hard enough that it took a substantial time to recover.

"Hardly," I responded, rolling my eyes. "Much nicer and easier to work with in class than you two have ever been."

"See, she likes him," Theodore laughed. "But not me. That's just not fair. Him and that stupid chaser. And you've never even given me a chance!"

"Are you serious?" I laughed. "You had five years."

"No. I didn't. And it only took him a night to get into your skirts. You should consider yourself lucky I'm even still interested," Theodore said. "You may not get the chance again." My jaw clenched together. My hands balled into fists. And it took every single bit of willpower I had to not attempt to kill Theodore Nott with my bare hands.

"Listen to yourself," I spat. "It's amazing you can't figure out why I'm not interested."

"Why," he asked. He crossed his arms and stared at me.

"Everything you say. It's either a veiled threat. Or comments on 'allowing' me to do something. You've no interest in me past, well, fuck, I don't even know. Maybe you think I'm hot. Maybe you have an ulterior motive. I don't care. I'm sick of threats, and I'm sick of your misogynistic attempts to appease me.

"I'm not going to be interested in someone who clearly doesn't care for _me. _You know why Potter is nice, Teddy? Because he's never once told me to do something. Or how I'd be lucky to be with him. And because when I say something he listens, and he remembers it. I'm not dating him. And I'm certainly not sleeping with him.

"But, you know what? Whoever does get to do that will find themselves very happy. He's supportive. He's unassuming. And he cares. They'll be much happier with him than you. And frankly, I'd be lucky if he-"

"He'll be lucky if he lives," Draco responded dryly. And I turned my gaze back to the pitch. Although somehow, I wasn't sure if that was what Draco was talking about. But I picked him out of the air easily enough. And he was falling, again. My heart sank in my chest.

He hit the ground with a mundane thud. There were gasps from the crowd. Including, I'm sure, one from myself. After that, everything was just silent.

And then there were people around him. At first his teammates. And then the Hufflepuff players. And then finally, professors. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore looked him over. Dumbledore made an announcement. Harry was okay.

I sighed. I hadn't even realized that I hadn't been breathing. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore levitated him off the pitch. I didn't know if they'd finish the match or not. I suppose they'd have to. But I didn't really care.

I think Draco and Theodore were speaking. Saying something. I even think Theodore was talking to me. But I wasn't listening. I just stood and left.

I wasn't the only one who left. There were a couple of Ravenclaws and a large contingent of Gryffindor supporters. I left with them.

Author's Note: As always thanks for reading. The best way to contact me is typically via PM on this website. I try to respond to every message I receive there. I have been known to forget and respond in six to eight months. But hey, it happens.

My goal is to keep the chapter a week pace up through the end of the story. We'll see how that goes. As of the posting, there's about 2200 words of chapter 14 complete


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, QuiteMike, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 14

I attempted to go straight to the Hospital Wing. It didn't work. When I got there it was so crowded with Gryffindors I couldn't actually get near the entrance. Well, that's a lie. I got near the entrance. It just didn't help my cause.

"What do you want, snake," A young Gryffindor with a camera spat. The rudeness in his voice didn't suit his age. But it caught me completely off guard.

"Uhm, I want to see Potter," I said. I tilted my head to the side and smiled at him. Smiling usually worked with young boys. It wasn't until after I spoke that it occurred to me I probably shouldn't have used his surname.

"I don't think that's going to happen," another younger Gryffindor said. She had long dark hair and eyes. She smiled at the boy with the camera and he nodded. "The first thing he sees when he wakes up will be me!"

"He's not awake yet?" I asked. I'm not sure why that surprised me. But it had taken me awhile to get to the Hospital Wing.

"No," the girl responded. And she just glared at me. I wondered about her words. Was she dating Harry? He never talked about her. Well, it wasn't like I'd ever asked. But if he was dating her why would he have bathed with me! Then again, he'd implied that night was just to help me relax. But he kissed me! You don't kiss random girls when you're dating one!

"Well, uhm, can you tell him I stopped by?" I asked. It was a pretty dumb thing to say.

"Okay," the boy with the camera said quietly.

"No," The dark-haired girl responded. "Why would Harry care that some snake came by?" And I decided I didn't like her.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Romilda Vane," she responded. "Now leave."

"Uhm, no," I said. "You see Harry and I are partners in Transfiguration and Herbology-"

"So what? Do you want to like copy his homework or something. I think he's got a few more important things to worry about right now."

"No," I said. My hands clenched into fists again. It was going to be one of those days, I suspected.

"Well then what the hell could you want," she spat. I wanted to strangle her. But I figured that would probably get me into detention.

"To see if he's okay," I admitted, honestly, but through gritted teeth.

"Of course he's not okay!" the girl shouted. "He just fell like a hundred feet off his broom! You're just going to have to survive without him in class." I just looked at the girl. She obviously wasn't particularly good with judging distance. But I wasn't going to comment on that.

"I'm perfectly capable of surviving class by my lonesome," I responded as coolly as I could. I didn't want to lose my temper and start shouting as well.

"Maybe we should just let her in. How much harm can she do?" the boy asked. I smiled at him and gave him a polite nod. "And it's not like Ron and Hermione aren't in there. And Madame Pomfrey."

"No, Colin," she said sternly. "You know how they can be. I'm not letting her anywhere near him. For all we know she cursed him while he was flying!" The girl was pretty much raving now. And I was pretty sure that by 'they' she meant Slytherins. You got used to the reputation, after a while. But it was still annoying to have people think your only purpose in life was to harm them.

"Well if she did I'd like to see the spell that makes the keeper grab a beaters bat and hit a bludger at his own seeker," the boy, Colin apparently, said. At least that gave me some idea of what happened to him. It couldn't have been pretty. Part of me was glad to have not witnessed it.

"A Confundus charm may have done something like that!" Vane argued. I rolled my eyes.

"No usually that limits complex action, not encourages it," I argued. Of course I doubted she'd take swinging a bat at a ball as complex action.

"Which would explain why he hit the bludger so poorly!" She spat. I sighed. Apparently I'd given her more credit than she deserved.

"Or maybe he's just a better beater than a keeper," I responded snottily. I think my point was lost on her, as she just stared at me, not quite believing what I'd said. The boy, Colin, chuckled a little bit under his breath though. He was starting to grow on me.

But then the large double doors to the hospital wing flew open. And an exasperated voice spoke out.

"What is going on out here!" Hermione Granger pretty much yelled. Her hair was a mess and she looked pretty disheveled. I couldn't really blame her, I guess. It had been a pretty rough week for her. Her eyes focused on Vane, though. I suspect she recognized the loud voice from inside.

"Just keeping the riff-raff away from Harry," Romilda said sweetly. It appeared she didn't consider Granger to be any sort of a rival. I suppose that was a good thing. I raised my eyebrows at the younger girl as she spoke. Granger turned to look at me and looked a little startled.

"Oh, Daphne," she said quietly. She looked at me for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to check on Harry," I said carefully. I crossed my arms over my chest as I spoke. Hopefully Harry hadn't lectured Granger on my personal habits.

"Or so she claims," Vane said. "How is he doing, Hermione? Is he okay?"

"He's sleeping," Hermione said. "Or knocked out, if you prefer." She shrugged her shoulders, like it made sense to her to differentiate.

"Sleeping sounds better," Vane responded. "Much more peaceful." I nodded curtly. But I wasn't about to verbally agree with her. Of course, I could have made a snotty comment about how euphemisms always sounded better, as that was the point of them. But I didn't go there.

"Yes," Granger shrugged. She looked around the hallway and seemed relieved that more people hadn't gathered in the hallways.

"So he's going to be okay?" I asked carefully. I didn't expect Granger would give me a sarcastic answer, but I was going to do everything in my power to avoid that.

"As okay as he ever is," Granger sighed. I raised an eyebrow at that. I really needed to ask him more about all the trouble he got in. There had to be an interesting story or two in there.

"Well that's good," I said carefully. Colin wasn't paying attention to me anymore. Instead he was fiddling with his camera and otherwise acting like there wasn't anything going on around him.

"Very good," Vane said. I suspected she was trying to trump me. She looked toward Granger. My peer seemed a bit exasperated by the younger girl. But she was far too nice to tell her off. Instead she looked around her and stared at me.

"Do you want to see him?" she asked. Her eyes locked on mine. I smirked a little bit. Well played, Granger.

"Oh of course I do!" Vane yelled, responding how we both knew she would. She was a boisterous girl, to say the least. But Hermione just blinked and looked at her. Doing her best to fake surprise.

"Not you," she scoffed. "I was asking Daphne." I had to admit. Granger was a cleverer girl than I'd have given her credit for. She was just using me to try to irritate Vane and make it clear to her that she wasn't invited.

"What?" Vane yelled. "But she's a Slytherin!"

"She's Harry's girlfriend," Granger spat back. Vane blinked and looked at me. She was suddenly incredibly pale and looked sick. I tilted my head at Granger. I couldn't tell if Potter had told her something, or if she was just taking a leap of faith.

"What?" Vane yelled again. She appeared to be reverting to a one word vocabulary. Colin was looking at me again. He had his head tilted curiously to the side, like he was judging me.

"And I'm sure he'd want her there," Granger continued. She was eyeing me hopefully. And I knew she was hoping I'd be able to rid her of the problem that was Romilda Vane. And I probably could have.

But I didn't want to help Granger. Yes, I know, I'm petty. But it didn't matter. I just couldn't bring myself to doing it. And I really didn't want to go into the Hospital Wing with her. So I decided instead to be my typical bitchy self.

"No, that's okay," I sighed, shaking my head. "I'll come back later." And the look on Granger's face made it entirely worth it.

"Are you sure?" she said. "I'm sure it would mean a lot to him." She was staring at me in a way that made it pretty clear she was cursing me in her mind.

"Positive," I said. "It will be more entertaining if he's awake, anyway."

"You're a terrible girlfriend. I guess that's what he gets if he wants to date a stupid snake," Vane commented. I just shrugged her off, hoping if I largely ignored her she'd feel miniscule and useless. It wasn't a strategy that usually worked with boisterous gryffs but it was worth a shot.

"I, uhm, guess I'll see you later then, Daphne," Granger said carefully. And I realized my hunch was correct. It was all just a charade. And when it boiled down to it, Granger simply thought I was a better option than Vane. I'm not sure if that was a good thing or not. But I wasn't going to do much about it at that time.

"Bye, Granger," I said. So I'd throw her a bone. Acting friendly might irritate Vane. Colin again seemed fairly oblivious to the entire situation.

But wandering away just created another dilemma. I wasn't sure what I should do. I walked back toward the Great Hall and just stood there. Judging from how deserted the entire thing was I assumed they were still playing quidditch. Things probably couldn't have been going well for Gryffindor. Part of me was secretly amused by that.

Hey, what can I say, go Slytherin.

I could have gone back to the common room and read. Or my dormitory if I wished to be a little bit more alone while I read. But I really did want to visit Potter later. Which was a bit of a strange thought as I don't think I'd visited anyone in the hospital since Draco got himself mauled by a hippogriff. I mean, got mauled by a hippogriff.

And the problem came with how difficult that would be to explain heading off to the hospital after dinner to my friends. I'm sure they'd try to think of a way to prevent me from doing just that. So I needed to find some way of occupying myself. I debated going out to sit at the lake, but it was probably too cold for that, warming charm or no.

However, reading seemed like a pretty good idea. Certainly better than most I could come up with. So it was just a matter of finding some place to do it. There was always Potter's room. But it had the annoying problem of being on the seventh floor. And I had the annoying trait of being really lazy and hating staircases. At least the stupid hat had the foresight to not put me in a house in a tower.

I thought about Potter's room a bit more. It probably would have been the perfect spot to go. I could get over my own laziness. But, somehow, I suspected that I wouldn't end up reading if I wound up in the room. I mean, how could you expect a girl to stay focused with a room she could get to do absolutely anything? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get some completely uninterruptable alone time at a boarding school?

I shrugged my bag off my shoulder and held it in front of me. I opened it and looked through it. I should have probably known what books I'd had on me. But I tended to forget when I took something out to read. It looked like I had my standard Herbology text, both my History of Magic texts, and my Muggle Studies book.

I couldn't help but notice that the dog ear on the Muggle Studies book was dangerously close to the end. It would be a good feeling to finish that damn thing. Probably not as good as alone time, but good nonetheless. So at least I knew what I'd read.

And then where to read hit me, too. Professor Burbage often kept her classroom open on weekends. She claimed she saw absolutely no reason not to. I'd used it in the past for various things. Mostly for study sessions with other students.

So I walked to the Muggle Studies classroom. It wasn't overly far from where I was. So I wandered over there.

It was empty when I arrived. That didn't surprise me. Judging by how empty the halls were I suspected most of the students were still at the Quidditch match. Or, if it had ended, just enjoying the slightly warmer temperatures February brought.

I tossed my bag onto a table before remembering I had to dig through it to find my books. I grabbed the history text out first and wished I'd brought something along to read for fun. I sat at one of the desks and opened the book.

I made it about three pages before I closed the book and fidgeted in the chair. I put it down and fidgeted some more. Stupid wooden desks weren't comfortable. They could have at least charmed them in some way. Would it have been such a terrible idea to have students comfortable in class? Probably, by professor logic.

I stood up and looked for my wand. Naturally I couldn't find it. After about fifteen seconds of freaking out and hearing my mother lecture me on the importance of keeping track of your possessions I decided to look in my bag. And of course, it was there. I took it out and twirled it between my fingers as I debated what I'd do to the chair.

In the end, it wasn't much. I just transfigured it into a large cushioned arm chair. I then sat across it, letting my legs dangle over one of the arm rests and went back to reading. My skirt fell a bit further up my legs than I probably should have been comfortable with. But I was alone in the classroom.

I went back to reading then. It wasn't particularly interesting. More stuff on how the passing of the Statute of Secrecy changed everything. This time the focus of the reading was on ways it negatively impacted Wizarding society. The author made some pretty good points, I suspect, but I mostly skimmed the passages. It didn't seem like the kind of stuff Binns would quiz us on.

I got through about fifty pages before the door opened to the classroom. I looked up from the book, a little surprised, given that there was quidditch and it was Saturday, I didn't suspect that anyone would bother showing up.

And in a sense, I was right, as it was just Professor Burbage walking into the room. She was wearing a black dress and had her hair up in a bun. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, Daphne," she looked surprised by my presence.

"Professor," I said. I looked at her for a moment. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh no," she just laughed. "But I do have a date this afternoon!"

"Professors date?" I said dryly.

"Yes, but not each other," she responded.

"That seems like it would be easier," I commented.

"Probably," Professor Burbage agreed. "But contrary to whatever you students think, we professors do actually spend time outside of the castle and with other people."

"Weird," I responded dryly. Professor Burbage just laughed at me, shaking her head.

"And why are you invading my classroom?" she asked.

"Just looking for a quiet place to read," I responded. I gestured to the history text before just dropping it into my lap.

"Oh? Like your common room, or your dormitory?" she teased. I just shrugged my shoulders a bit.

"Neither are particularly quiet during the day," I commented. Which was usually the case. But there was quidditch today, which meant they would have been very quiet.

"Well just make sure to change the furniture back when you're done," she sighed. I shrugged.

"If your desks weren't painfully uncomfortable I would have to transfigure them," I teased. "Now why are you coming to your classroom before your date?"

"Forgot to grab the quizzes the third years took yesterday. I'd like to get them graded and back by Monday. I should have probably started on them last night, but I'll have time tomorrow," she explained. Professor Burbage was a bit odd in the fact that she was always honest with you. Most professors would just glare at you if you questioned why they were somewhere. Which was probably because it wasn't any of our business. But there was something nice about being able to just have a conversation.

"Want me to grade them while you're on your date?" I asked. I'm not sure what possessed me to ask. I was still looking curiously at her. She wasn't that old. Probably younger than both my parents. And she dressed up very well. I suspected her date wouldn't be disappointed.

Really I just hoped she had an answer key. Granted I could probably figure out whatever the answers were supposed to be on a third year quiz. But it would be a lot easier to not have to.

"No, that's okay," Professor Burbage said. I let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief. "It will give me something to do tomorrow."

"Suit yourself," I smiled. I probably shouldn't have attempted to sound disappointed in her decision. Because really I'd rather do my boring history reading than grade third year essays. But I was in a somewhat charitable mood. Or just bored. I guess.

"Don't sound so disappointed," she laughed right about the same time she finished gathering up the papers. "You know what you could do that would be awesome?

"Aside from just being me?"

"A pan of brownies," Professor Burbage countered. I laughed a little bit and looked at the stove. I wondered if she even had the ingredients on stand-by. Typically she only bought food of any type before one of the dinner meetings.

"Can't you professors just get sweets from the elves?" I asked.

"Yes," Professor Burbage nodded. "But, personally, I don't think they bake worth a damn. It always seems lacking. I suspect if they made desserts more often than simply for the holidays, they'd improve."

"That's more practice than I get," I laughed. "I haven't baked since summer."

"Well get on that. It's the rent for using my classroom."

"Fine, fine," I sighed. "I'll leave the pan here." And I had an idea. I tilted my head to the side as I thought about it. I always did like baking.

"You're the best," she laughed. I rolled my eyes. It was nice to have a professor as a friend. But, at the same time, it was always a little bit odd.

"Does that mean I can skip the assignment next week?" I asked.

"No," Professor Burbage responded immediately.

"Damn," I muttered.

"Language, Daphne," she countered, shifting seamlessly back into Professor mode.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"It's alright. I have to go now," She said. She had her papers gathered up and was moving back toward the door.

"Have fun, see you in class," I said. I stood up and started moving toward the cabinets, eliciting a giggle from the professor as I gathered up the ingredients for brownies.

"Have more fun baking. And remember to fix the furniture before you leave." She reiterated. I just nodded and heard the door open and then close a few seconds later. I wasn't overly surprised that I had all the ingredients I needed.

It didn't take me too long to whip two batches of blonde brownies up. They were a little short on chocolate chips, but I hadn't had much to work with. I tossed them into the Muggle Studies oven and went back to my chair.

Unfortunately, the reading was still boring. And the scent of brownies baking didn't make it any more entertaining. I soldiered on, though. And I managed to finish the history text a full three minutes before the timer on the oven went off.

I grabbed my wand and used it to turn off the oven, as well as levitate the brownies out so they could cool down. I shifted to the Muggle Studies reading while I waited for that to happen. It took most of my willpower to just not cool them with magic. But I found food tended to be better when unhindered. And I needed an excuse to finish the reading.

Sixty pages later I gave up. It had probably taken me longer than the brownies needed anyway. I sealed one of the pans with aluminum foil and left it on the counter for Professor Burbage before sealing the other and picking it up. I summoned my bag to me and flipped it over my shoulder.

The castle was still fairly empty. And a quick look at my watch made me realize why. I'd spent the entire day in the Muggle Studies room and it was almost after hours. I guess that's what happens when you wake up at noon.

Thankfully, Romilda Vane was no longer standing outside the Hospital Wing. The boy with the camera was gone as well. So it was fairly easy to push open the doors and wander in.

At first I thought it was empty. But that was just because both Potter and Weasley were in beds off to the corner. It looked like they were talking, but I couldn't hear anything that they were saying.

They apparently noticed me, though, as both boys looked startled. Obviously they hadn't thought anyone would come in. Weasley looked particularly annoyed at my presence; Potter just looked a little confused.

I walked toward them. Potter did something with his wand which made me pause for a moment. By the way he was holding it I thought he was going to curse me. I just looked startled and he put it back on the bedside table.

"Daphne," He started. But Weasley cut him off.

"What are you doing here?" he said. His tone was rather harsh. I blinked a little bit and shook my head. I wanted to say something mean. But it just didn't seem worth it at the moment. So instead I just held up the brownies and continued toward their beds.

"I just wanted to check on Po- Harry," I said. I kept my tone as neutral as I could. Thankfully, at first glance, he looked pretty much normal. He was just wearing a white t-shirt and had the blankets over his legs.

"Why," Ron asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. I looked at Potter and blinked.

"Is that how dumb I look when I do that?" I asked. Potter paused and spared a glance for Weasley. He shrugged.

"No, usually you have a cute frown at the same time. You never quite look that sullen," he explained. I rolled my eyes and would have probably crossed my arms had I not been holding a pan of brownies.

"What are you doing here," Weasley spat. Obviously he wasn't going to let this go.

"Well you see, Harry fell off his broom and hit his head. So I was just stopping by to make sure that everything was okay." I tried to sound as condescending as I could.

"You're late," Weasley said. "Everyone else came by earlier."

"Well I didn't want to be here when everyone else was here," I commented.

"Hermione said you stopped by but got into an argument with Romilda and then left," Potter said quietly. He was eyeing me carefully.

"So apparently you did want to be here with everyone else," Weasley said dryly. "But a nice loyal lion scared you away, snake."

"Well it was that or strangle her. And since that other kid had a camera that didn't seem to be that good of an idea," I tried to joke. Potter chuckled a little bit, but Weasley just glared at me.

"Well you've seen him. He's fine. No thanks to you, obviously. For all we know you probably cursed his broom or something," Weasley spat.

"Because a cursed broom is obviously how you get hit in the face with a bludger," I commented.

"Thanks for reminding me, Daphne," Harry said, wincing a bit as he spoke.

"Sorry hon," I said. Harry blushed and Ron raised an eyebrow and I wasn't quite sure why. I just shrugged a bit. "And anyway, I brought brownies."

"How did you get brownies?" Weasley asked. "There's only ever dessert on special occasions. Did you break into the kitchens?" He looked far more interested in me at that moment as I pulled the aluminum foil on the pan back to show off the goods.

"No. I made them," I said. I didn't even know where the kitchens were. And frankly, the more I thought about it. I didn't even care where the kitchens were.

"How," Ron asked suspiciously.

"Well you start by pre-heating the oven. Or greasing the pan. I usually preheat the oven first. And then you get some flour, some baking powder-"

"Where is there an oven?" Ron asked. It took all of my willpower to not just comment 'in the kitchens' but he probably thought the elves made all of the food with magic. I wondered if he'd ever watched anyone cook before. But as I was thinking of a bitchy response, Potter responded for me.

"The Muggle Studies classroom," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes," Potter said. "They use it for their little parties. Apparently cooking is a big part of them,"

"Why?" Weasley asked. "That's what the elves are for."

"You know, Weasely, you'd get along swimmingly with some of my friends," I sighed. Somehow I'm not sure why I hadn't expected to have this argument again.

"I would not!" he gasped, sounding like I'd insulted him in the worst possible way.

"Because cooking can be fun," Harry said. Once again he managed to steer the conversation back onto track. "And it's a good way to bond with people."

"If you insist," Weasley said. Using the exact same tone my friends did when they didn't believe me and didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Now why would you make Harry brownies? Just trying to make sure he still gets to Transfiguration on Monday?"

"I'll be fine if he doesn't," I shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice." I looked over at Potter and wondered just what he'd told Weasley. I was starting to suspect nothing.

"Romilda seemed to think otherwise," Weasley said.

"Romilda seems to think a lot of things," Potter muttered.

"She's pretty," Weasley commented. Harry gave him a quick glance as if he couldn't quite believe what Weasley was saying. But the red head wasn't really paying attention.

"I guess. I prefer blondes," Harry said. He turned his gaze back to me and spoke up. "Can I have a brownie, Daphne?"

"Of course," I said. I set the pan down on the table between their beds and ripped off a piece of the foil covering. I transfigured that piece into a dull knife and started to cut the brownies into smaller squares. I cut out three.

"How do you know she didn't poison them," Weasley asked. I laughed a little bit, shaking my head. I suppose it was mean, given that he was poisoned. But I couldn't help myself.

"If I was going to poison him, I'd have cut out one brownie first, poisoned it, and saved the rest of the batch for later," I explained. "There's no reason to waste the entire pan of brownies."

"So you could have known which portion was poisoned and specifically cut that one out!" Weasley accused. I just blinked at him.

"Sure," I agreed sarcastically. I placed one of the three brownies on Weasley's bed, being nicer than I probably should have been. I then plopped myself down on Potter's bed and handed him a brownie.

"Thanks," he said.

"Don't eat that!" Ron said.

"Ron, you can't seriously think she'd-" Harry started. But he stopped when I plucked the brownie out of his hand and ate half of it in one bite. And then finished off the second half.

"Mmm Poisoney," I said.

"Hey," Harry frowned. But I then handed him the last of the three I'd cut out. He took it and ate it quickly. He glared at me as he did, as if expecting I'd try to steal it again.

"A fairly good batch if I may say so myself," I said, fishing for compliments.

"Delicious," Harry admitted. He looked over at Weasley and continued. "If you're not going to eat that pass it over." But Weasley just glared at him and begrudgingly ate his brownie. I smiled at him.

"There," he said when he swallowed. "We got your brownies. You can leave now." I noticed he glanced back at the pan and suspected I'd made a decent enough impression.

"Okay," I said. "It is almost after hours, anyway."

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry said. I smiled at him and just leaned down and kissed him, very lightly, on the lips. I kissed him in as similar a way I could to how he'd last kissed me before he ran off to quidditch practice. I then slipped off his bed and walked out of the hospital wing, not sparing he or Weasley another glance.

Thursday rolled around annoyingly slowly. It was one of those weeks that never ended, no matter what you did. And there was still a day left. Oh well, how bad could Friday be? Probably pretty bad but I wasn't going to think about that too much.

I'd grown sick of the common room, mostly because of the people in it. So I'd decided to just not go back after class that afternoon. Which was a better idea before I'd realized it was raining. Well, drizzling, I suppose. I shouldn't be overly melodramatic.

I'd dried a spot of grass near the lake and plopped myself down on it. It wasn't that cold but since I was only wearing my school uniform I tossed a warming charm on as well. Just so my legs wouldn't get cold.

Of course I sat with my knees up, anyway, and wrapped my arms around my legs. It probably wasn't the best way to sit in a skirt. But I was wearing one of my longer ones and held it in place. And there wasn't anyone out, anyway. Well, except for the blue robes shooting around the Quidditch pitch.

It was nice to be outside and not freezing again. It wasn't nearly as warm as I preferred, or that it would get, but it sure beat freezing. If only by a few degrees.

I just stared at the lake and thought about nothing in particular. My mind shifted from my housemates, to Harry Potter, to class, to Astoria still being in a relationship with Blaise. Most of the thoughts weren't overly pleasant. But what was I going to do?

I had mom's medical journal in my bag. But I'd already read most of it. Including the stuff she hadn't written. There were some interesting things. But mostly it just made my head hurt.

I'd been sitting there for about a half hour when he sat down next to me. Judging from the fact that he didn't make any disgusted noise, I suspect he dried the ground before he sat as well.

"You feeling okay?" Harry Potter asked. I just kept looking at the lake. I thought about it for a few moments.

"How did you find me?" I asked, intentionally not answering his question.

"Lucky I guess," he shrugged quietly. I didn't like the luck excuse. But he didn't seem willing to offer more than that. So instead I went back to his original question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. I tilted my head to the side, toward him. "Why?"

"Well, it's cold and you're sitting outside in the rain," Potter said. "And I'm not sure you hate anything more than the cold. And I suspect the rain is fairly high up on that list as well."

"I like rain," I lied. Well it was only a partial lie. I liked how rain looked. And I liked how it smelled before and after it rained. I did not particularly like being rained on. "And it's not that cold."

"Well yeah, but that doesn't usually stop you from claiming it is," he teased. I shrugged a little bit.

"I hate the cold," I said.

"I know," he responded. "So why are you sitting out in it?"

"I didn't feel like going to the common room," I admitted. I wondered if he made everyone honest, or if that was just me.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Do you really want to hear about Slytherin girl drama?" I asked. I tried to sound snotty, but he just shrugged.

"If you want to talk about it, then yes," he said.

"You're annoyingly nice," I responded. He chuckled quietly under his breath.

"Not always. But I've found it makes things easier," he admitted.

"I guess," I sighed. I stared out toward the sun. It was beginning its slow decline behind the forest. "You know. Everyone in my house thinks you're a dick."

"That doesn't surprise me," he sighed. "Everyone in my house thinks you're a bitch."

"I am a bitch," I sighed.

"Not really," Harry argued. I rolled my eyes.

"Uh-huh. I believe the first thing I said directly to you this year was yelling an expletive," I commented.

"No, the first thing you said was 'Potter' to which you followed up with a scolding of me after you ran into me in a hallway," he said. I blinked a bit. He was either slightly creepy or had a very good memory.

"Well you were in the way," I commented.

"Indeed. And I believe the only time you yelled an expletive at me was after I'd broken your nose. So I think you were at least a little bit justified," he said.

"Of course I was," I scoffed.

"And you did teach me that healing spell. Which has been very handy, by the way. So thanks for that. Although it would have been nice to know that it hurt as much fixing things as breaking them did," he commented idly. "Surprised the hell out of one of my beaters when a bludger fractured his arm."

"Only with broken bones," I sighed. "There's better spells for healing those, but I don't know them. You should have taken him to Pomfrey."

"Probably," Harry admitted. "But he was wailing like a baby and I didn't want to have him embarrassing himself and my team in the hallways."

"And you didn't want to lose any precious Quidditch practice time," I sighed.

"You can practice down a beater," he countered.

"And a seeker, I suspect," I stated.

"Yeah, probably," he sighed. "Makes it harder to practice without the team captain, though."

"I'm sure they could manage," I commented. He shrugged a little bit.

"Probably. But I think you were going to tell me about Slytherin girl drama," he said. I frowned.

"You don't want to hear about that," I said.

"Sure I do," he commented. "Great blackmail material." And I hit him on the arm.

"If I tell you, you're not allowed to repeat it," I commented.

"Fine," he sighed. And then he was quiet. Like he expected me to start talking. And part of me wanted to. But part of me didn't. So I didn't.

"Enjoy the brownies?" I asked. Harry was silent for a moment before he responded.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I only had a few though. Ron ate about three quarters of the pan. I think Hermione had one."

"Figures," I snorted. "And he thinks I'm a huge bitch, I bet."

"Yeah, he's not a big fan of you," Potter responded.

"You hadn't told him about us, had you?" I asked.

"No. We hadn't really talked about you. Every time I'd bring you up he'd complain about those few times he had to work with you in Transfiguration. I'm not sure why, either. I've never put…well less effort isn't the way to word it. I've never found it as easy as I do now," he admitted.

"Well he tries to break everything he transfigures, you don't," I said. "It is easy. Just coaxing it into whatever you want it to be."

"Can we not talk about class?" Potter asked.

"Why not?"

"Because it's boring and it has been a long week and I don't really want to think about all of the extra crap I'm going to have added on to my homework after tomorrow's classes?"

"Do most of it tonight," I said dryly.

"I don't think that's going to happen," he admitted.

"Why not?" I asked

"General laziness?" he shrugged. It wasn't an acceptable answer but I didn't press. As it would have probably been rude to pry.

And so we sat, in silence, as the rain slowly petered out. After a few moments he slipped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. I shifted a little bit to be in a more comfortable position, but didn't protest. After a few more moments I spoke up.

"Did you tell anyone about us?" I asked quietly.

"Uhm," he said quietly.

"Granger?" I asked.

"Yes."

"And she said?"

"She told me to be careful. She doesn't really like you, either. Apparently you're mean to her in runes," he said.

"She said that?" I asked.

"In more complicated words," he answered. "Are you mean to her in runes?"

"Ish," I shrugged. He laughed quietly.

"Ish?" he asked.

"Well it's not entirely intentional. I get a bit sick of the lectures she goes off on. I'm half convinced the professor just lets her lecture to get out of actually having class," I scoffed.

"Lockhart did that once or twice," Harry commented. I suspect he had, but I didn't remember enough to confirm or deny that.

"I guess," I said. Eloquent I suppose.

"Well I told her," he said.

"And not Weasley?" I asked.

"Tried. He's just not the best at listening. And frankly he's been incapacitated and dealing with some girl problems of his own," Harry explained. He was still holding me close to him. I shifted around again. It wasn't a particularly comfortable arrangement. But I didn't mind that much.

"Oh? I'm a girl problem now?" I asked. I was trying to be a tease, but I suspect it didn't quite come out that way.

"Well you're a girl and I don't quite know what to do with you," Harry responded. He managed to convey a teasing tone much better than I had. And that only annoyed me a little bit. As the female in the relationship I was supposed to be the one who could be a coquette. Not the other way around.

"Typically the boy's main interest and use for the girl is procreation and the activities involved in that," I responded as clinically as I could.

"Are you propositioning me, Daphne?" he asked, without missing a beat.

"Maybe," I laughed a little bit. He shifted over and kissed the top of my head. "What did he say when I kissed you?"

"Nothing," Harry laughed quietly. "He stared at me for a bit and then really went to town on the brownies."

"So my actions prevented you from feasting?" I laughed.

"Exactly," Harry laughed.

"Well then I guess I can tell you Slytherin drama to make up for it," I said.

"Oh goodie," he smiled. "We could always make out in the rain instead."

"It's not raining anymore," I commented.

"Well my offer still stands," he said. I giggled a little bit.

"You have an interesting way of making me feel better," I admitted.

"That's good to know," Harry commented.

"Well anyway, life in the Slytherin common room isn't fun right now," I admitted.

"Why not?"

"Well I suspect its fine for most people. But Millicent won't talk to me because she's convinced that Theodore only was such a douche to her because he's more interested in me. And that I must have done something to lead him on.

"And then there's Pansy, who just won't talk to anyone because she's pretty much in coma now that she's not dating Draco. Honestly he's pretty much just tolerated her presence since about fourth year. And her whole plan to sleep with him to keep him interested obviously backfired.

"So that leaves me with Tracey. Who's more interested in talking about her boyfriend than anything else. And frankly that's boring. She's also not sure how to act around me because I've done the unspeakable thing of being spotted in the company of The Chosen One, because apparently paper rumors matter.

"And you know, we're not all just students, trying to get through our damn classes and wondering what we'll do with our lives after we get out of this damn place.

"Oh and I forgot Astoria. I'm really sick of seeing her sitting on Blaise's lap. And I can't help but think I should maybe take a picture of her pretty much grinding him in the common room and send it to our parents just to get some type of reaction. But I'm not quite that petty.

"On top of all of that, the younger years seem to be avoiding me. I converse pretty much only with Tracey and Astoria, and that is very brief whenever it happens. Usually I don't particularly mind the quiet. But it's different when you get the sense that people don't want you around.

"And Theodore keeps leering at me. And with the way you seem suddenly fascinated by my hair, I suspect you're not paying the least bit of attention to this." Interestingly enough, I hadn't even really thought that he could have possibly not been paying attention until he started twirling my hair through his fingers.

"You ever think about dying it?" he asked.

"So not helping your cause right now, Potter," I said.

"Hermione almost went blonde once," he responded, causing me to wince. But I suspect I had that coming. Now I just had to wonder if his comment was a complete lie simply made to remind me of our little agreement, or if it was actually the case. Either way, I couldn't picture Granger as a blonde.

"No, I have not considered dying my hair. I actually sort of like the color and think I would look terrible with anything else. The absolute furthest I would go would be some magical pinkish highlights to give it more of a strawberry blonde feel," I said as emotionlessly as I could. When I was younger I wanted to experiment with more colors. But I just hadn't really thought about bothering much at school.

"I'm sorry Millicent is blaming you for something Theodore Nott did. I've never really spoken to him but he seems to be a surly fellow. And I hope Pansy snaps out of her funk if that means you'll be happier in your common room," Potter said. And interestingly enough there was a honesty in his voice. Like he actually did wish Pansy would get better, and Millicent would be nicer. I'm not sure I could have said the same thing in his place.

"Thanks," I mumbled quietly.

"And I'm not sure I can help with Blaise and Astoria. But I think I can empathize with how that much feel and I'm sorry you feel a bit helpless there. I can't even think of anything to suggest that might help," he continued.

"Nothing will," I muttered quietly. I'd accepted that. But the whole situation still bothered me.

"Also I like your hair color. I was just curious. Some girls here seem to change theirs pretty frequently. I think Ron almost even convinced Lavender to go Chudley Orange," he sighed.

"Ew," was my only response. And some girls did. Probably even more than he expected. After all it was really easy to change your hair color with brief coloring charms to see how you liked it. Of course, casting magic on your head was always a tricky proposition. Those were the cases where you had to really be sure the spell wouldn't backfire.

"And other than that, I suspect you could at least converse with Tracey about your boyfriend. There has to be some sort of common ground there. Maybe like a 'stupid thing boys do' conversation?" He let his fingers slide out of my hair as he spoke.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I commented idly.

"Ouch," he said.

"Well you never asked," I responded.

"I didn't, did I?" he responded.

"You did not," I said again. And he didn't respond. He just smiled as he looked out over the lake. And I think he knew that had he responded, or asked any sort of a question I'd have just made a snide comment. So he didn't. When he finally spoke he changed the subject.

"So all of that is what had you sitting out here?" he asked quietly, referring back to my mini-rant on my friends, I suspected.

"Well I tried to go to your room but it wouldn't show up. So yea, I came outside." I admitted.

"Huh," Harry said quietly. He looked momentarily lost in thought. "I've never had that happen."

"Well it must hate me," I scoffed.

"I doubt it," he said. And then he stood up, nearly dumping me onto the ground. But I stood up with him.

"What was that!" I said, trying to sound as annoyed as I could. He took my wrist and looked at my watch.

"We're going inside," he said.

"Why?" I asked. It was getting colder. But I didn't like being rushed anywhere.

"Because I've been working on something and I'd rather not have it go to waste," he said. "And I lost track of time looking for you."

"What?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," he said. I groaned. But we started walking back toward the castle.

"Last time it was a surprise I wound up half-naked in bed with you," I said dryly.

"So obviously surprises are a good thing," he countered. "And in fairness, you were only about a quarter naked in bed. You were half naked in the pool."

"Three-quarters in the pool," I countered.

"I'll give you that one," he said. He slipped his hand into mine as we walked back to the castle.

He led me back to the castle in silence. There was a bustle of activity in the entryway and the Great Hall. But that wasn't unusual as it was very close to dinner time. My stomach grumbled a bit at the smell of food. A few students stared at us. Many of their eyes locked onto our joined hands. I ignored it. And Potter did the same.

He walked down the familiar halls and it only took me a few moments to figure out his possible direction.

"Book Club?" I asked. If I'm honest, one of the reasons I was hiding outside was to avoid Professor Burbage. I didn't feel like being dragged into another conversation about Atlas. But there wasn't much else I could think of in that area.

"Not quite tonight, I don't suspect. But yeah, that's where we're going." He led me down the hallway. The smell of food was wafting from the Muggle Studies classroom. I groaned a little bit. At least I wouldn't have to cook.

"What are you going to show me at Book Club?" I laughed. I couldn't think of anything. "You didn't like, read _A Farewell to Arms_ and write up an essay on it, did you?"

"I'm on like page eighty," he responded. I blinked a little bit. His tone betrayed nothing. I couldn't tell if he was teasing me or not. So I didn't press.

"Well if that's not it, then what?" I asked.

"You're like thirty seconds from finding out and you want me to tell you?" he laughed.

"Yes," I said dryly, doing my best to pout.

"Well tough," he responded as we made the final turn toward the Muggle Studies room. Moments later he opened the door and we stepped in.

"There you are, Harry!" Professor Burbage laughed. She was standing with some fourth years and talking about something or other. "And here I was worried I'd have to try to save your Coq au Vin!"

"Been working on it too long to ruin it now," he laughed too. And he moved away from me, leaving me in the middle of the room. I blinked a bit and inhaled deeply. She didn't have a large table set up as was normal. Instead there was one table with some food on it. Appetizers mostly. And then a bunch of furniture littered around the room. She called these parties her 'symposium' parties. I noticed my second pan of brownies was still sealed and sitting on the main table. I moved over toward the professor and the other students.

"I was rather surprised when he offered to cook for us, Daphne," Professor Burbage said. "I had no idea he actually knew what he was doing!"

"I had no idea he could cook," I admitted. "Is that why you conned me into making the brownies?"

"Well he didn't approach me about it until Sunday morning. I figured after that it would just be easier to save them. A quick sealing charm and they should taste freshly baked," the professor commented. I laughed a little and shook my head.

"I'm going to grab something to drink," I said. Professor Burbage looked at me, appraisingly, but didn't comment as I moved toward Harry rather than where the juices and teas were laid out.

"You cook?" I asked.

"Not really," he responded. He was checking on everything. It appeared most things were in the final stages.

"Well this begs to differ," I said, gesturing around. "You must have been working on it since like noon."

"One, actually, but Professor Burbage watched it while I was in class this afternoon," he admitted. I just shook my head. Usually when I had to cook I just like baked a chicken or something easy.

"I see," I said. He just smiled at me.

"I promised the professor I'd serve everyone. So why don't you go claim us a couch or chat with friends and I'll come when it's done?" he asked. I almost protested. I should have probably offered to help. But I didn't. Claiming a couch appealed to me just a little bit more.

So I found an empty one in the back corner of the room and watched him. He paid no attention to me. But he was totally focused on his work. After about fifteen minutes he started organizing the food and serving up students. I still just watched him.

He smiled at pretty much everyone. He explained what the food was and chatted with anyone who bothered to ask a question. His smile was very infectious. I was a little envious of him.

When everyone else was served he walked over toward me with a plate filled with chicken and vegetables. He also brought me some earl grey tea. I was a little surprised by that as he brought everyone else pumpkin juice. Maybe he'd noticed I didn't drink it that much at meals. I liked my tea!

"Thanks," I said quietly. But I doubt he heard me. He wandered back to the oven to make sure everything was turned off before he fixed a plate for himself and joined me on the couch. I'm not ashamed to say that I had eaten about half of what he'd given me before he even returned.

"This is delicious," I said. He smiled at me.

"I'm glad you think so," he said and he started on his. We didn't talk while we ate. And it didn't take us long to eat all of the food. Everyone else was still eating so he just sat next to me on the couch. I didn't say anything and he didn't say anything.

At some point his arm wound up around me and I leaned against him. We conversed a bit then, I suspect. At least I vaguely remember talking. But I couldn't remember what we talked about. So it must have not been important.

But before we knew it the night was pretty much over. I helped him gather up the dirty and discarded plates. We brought them back to Professor Burbage and she cleaned them off quickly.

And then we left. I wish I could say there was more to the evening than that. But there wasn't. He walked with me as far as the Great Hall, but then we had to go our separate ways. I think he wanted to walk with me to the dungeons. But my watch showed there were only a few minutes before we'd be officially out at night. And there were still a few professors lingering around. So he didn't.

I didn't kiss him goodnight. I didn't even think about it until after I was almost to the common room. And that felt off. I should have done that. I hadn't even really thanked him for the meal. I should have done that too. But he hadn't commented. Really, he hadn't done much more than loosely hold me and smile. And something about that had felt, well, right.

I shook that thought out of my head as I stepped into the common room. It must have been a long day for pretty much everyone, as there were only a few stragglers in the common room still working on homework. I exchanged a quick bit of pleasantries with a fourth year. I think she was Astoria's friend Eve. But I wasn't paying close enough attention to notice.

I debated taking my books out of my bag and doing some homework. But it was late, and I was full and tired. So I just stepped up to my dormitory. Any thoughts would just have to wait until the morning.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate all of the support. If you wish to contact me, the best way to do so is likely through PM on the website.

Chapter 15 is the chapter that 'inspired' the story, for lack of a better term. I suspect it will take me a bit longer than usual to write.

Also, strangest request I've put on this website. I'd really be interested in a female beta for the next couple of chapters. PM me if you're interested. Thanks again.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, QuiteMike, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 15

It's amazing how little things changed. I got up too early, I went to class, I left class, I ate in the Great Hall, and I did homework. It's a fairly boring existence, if I'm honest. But it just felt different, even though nothing had actually changed.

Potter and I still didn't do much outside of class. But that didn't matter. In class was, well, different. I really can't describe it. And I know how lame that was. But he'd do little things in class. Like touch my hand, or put a hand on my back while we worked. And I wouldn't mind. In fact, sometimes I'd want him to do more.

And we walked to or from most of the classes we had together with each other. No one had commented on it, at least in the hallways. Sometimes Granger or Weasley joined us, usually they didn't.

But he'd do little things there, too. Like he'd let me prattle on about one thing or another, and when I wasn't paying enough attention to what was going on around me, he'd pull me out of the way of people in the hallway, or something of that nature.

Typically, anyone trying something like that with me, would have just annoyed me and made me yell at them. But with Potter I just let him. And that annoyed me. But not when it happened. Just after, when I thought about what he did.

And now my thoughts aren't making any sense. But none of it made any freaking sense. So I guess I'd just have to accept that for now. Maybe if I thought about it enough I'd be able to come up with something more coherent. But every time I tried I just got a pounding headache and wanted to crawl into bed and think about Potter.

Pansy's depression stuck around though. And that made it even more difficult to get some alone time in the dormitory. Often when she wasn't in class she just went straight to bed. Sometimes Tracey or I could coax her out of hiding. But those occasions were rare. We should have probably been better friends than we were, but we had no idea what to do. And Millicent certainly didn't put forth any effort. Making matters worse, too, was the fact that Draco really just didn't seem to care.

On the positive side, at least if anything can be construed as positive from the whole situation, it distracted most of my housemates from me and Potter. Not that there was really anything to be distracted from.

It was nice, though, that all the gossip shifted to how Draco and Pansy has broken up. And how the Slytherin power couple was no more. Interestingly, it seemed that just about every female in the house was now interested in Draco. Well except for me, Tracey, and Millicent. Of course, two of us were 'taken.' But that didn't stop the younger girls.

Taken. That was an interesting word. I wasn't really taken, I suppose. We'd still not talked about that. But I let him kiss me. Although, only when we were alone. I let him touch me. Again, still mostly only when we were alone. And I let him follow me about, if he liked. And sometimes I may have even followed him around. Oh well, whatever it was, it worked.

In the weeks that passed I met him in Hogsmeade once. It was awkward. We didn't really do much other than walk around the town quietly. He hadn't seemed that interested in talking. Well, I should rephrase that. He hadn't seemed that interested in starting a conversation.

He responded to everything I'd asked. And he'd even talk in detail about things, if I picked a conversation that was entertaining enough. But I didn't feel like thinking of everything to talk about. And he seemed content with silence. So I'd just let him hold my hand while we walked.

We'd wound up stopping at a small local restaurant and had a light dinner. Again we didn't talk much during it. I made some teasing comments about quidditch and he joked with me as we did.

And that was pretty much the extent of our awkward first date. I suppose it could have been worse, but it could have also been better.

He also showed up at every one of Professor Burbage's weekly gatherings. While there we usually wound up sitting alone in a corner. Typically he'd hold me and we'd still just talk. But here it was more about me. He'd ask about books, and classes, and how I was doing. And mostly the conversations seemed a little bit strange.

He'd walk me most of the way back to the dungeons on those nights.

Other nights we'd do more. Sometimes on weekends we'd sneak off to his hidden room. Only once did it refuse us access. I'm not sure how or why. But that night we'd snuck off to an empty classroom. At least until Sprout caught us and sent us back to our common rooms.

Thankfully it was only a few minutes after hours and we managed to convince her that we'd just lost track of time and she'd only deducted five points from each of our houses.

But other nights were much better. Especially the nights where the room cooperated. Because on those nights we'd just hang around, the two of us, and talk or whatever.

Mostly I liked how they ended. The first couple of times he'd found me after quidditch. And somehow, I don't have as good of a grasp on the details of the night as I should. But, that wasn't that big of a deal. It was just nice to be alone with him.

And, if I'm honest, to be in the same bed as him.

That came out smuttier than I'd have liked. It wasn't like we did anything. Hell, the first night he fell asleep in like a minute and I just lay there and read my book, sort of wedged into the crook of his arm. It wasn't really comfortable, but it worked.

The second night there was more kissing and touching. I let him do everything he tried. But really it wasn't that much. He just ran his hands over me a couple of times and kissed me a lot. I was slightly disappointed that he didn't try to take anything off of me. And yes, I do realize how silly that sounded.

The third night was more of the same. I don't know how to quite describe it. But it was like we started to understand each other more. He actually teased me. He'd barely slide his lips over my neck, or shoulders and it was wonderful.

I'd done the same to him, kind of. It was on a much smaller scale. He seemed to prefer to be a bit more in control and I didn't bother. That night he'd slid a hand under the tank top I'd worn as pajamas. I hadn't protested, but I suspect his lips would have felt better than his hands.

But even without all of that, I found I was just more relaxed with him. It was easier to sleep. And I felt like I slept better too. I felt more rested in the mornings and all around happier. I know it's all total bullshit, but that didn't really matter.

I shook Potter from my thoughts. I needed to think about something else for a few moments. What else was there? Well, it was spring. And spring meant warmer weather, even if it rained too much. And warmer weather was better weather.

I was sitting in the common room. I'd finished all of my class work reading early for once. Which was a bit surprising. There were a few weeks there where I'd fallen behind without even really realizing it. But some super-study sessions made up for that. And somehow, during the midst of it all, I was ahead! So woo.

I'd read most of that medical journal I'd bought by then. I was rather amazed when I found most of it interesting. Even the bits I didn't quite understand. Which, if I'm honest, was about seventy percent of the damn thing. Annoyingly, though, they'd sent me the next months too. So I'd had to pay for that. It was also interesting, despite not having anything by mom in it.

But when I finished that I found myself rather bored. I know, big shocker. I wandered up to the dormitory, partly to see if Pansy was there and partly to drop off the journal. Had Pansy not been there I'd have probably laid down a while and thought about Potter's room. But she was in bed. I debated showering, but didn't feel like it. And I'd showered that afternoon anyway.

So I wandered back down to the common room. Tracey and Millicent were talking about something or other. They were both smiling and laughing so it had to have been a pretty interesting conversation. I was going to join them until I saw Astoria and Blaise.

She was sitting on his lap, facing away from him. He had his arms around her and every so often she wiggled very deliberately against him. She was staring at Draco Malfoy as she did. Which disturbed me even more. He was sitting next to Theodore, they were talking about something. Theodore seemed uninterested, and frankly, Draco just looked exhausted. I think he was working on a potions essay of some sort. I'd heard a rumor that his grades were falling considerably, but I wasn't about to place any stock in that.

Although, as I thought about it, it was probably the first night that I'd seen him in the common room in the last few weeks. I wonder what he was up to. He certainly seemed to be showing no interest in the younger girls that were fawning over him.

Either way, I didn't really want to think about Draco or Astoria or Blaise for that matter, so I changed direction from Tracey and Millicent and walked toward the exit of the dungeons. Tracey noticed and spoke up.

"Where are you going, Daphne?" she asked. I'm sure she suspected that I'd be sneaking out to see Potter. Only she and Millicent seemed to really comment on it. Although every time it came up Theodore looked at me as disapprovingly as he could. It was almost cute. If, you know, I didn't want to strangle him every time he did it.

"For a walk, mom," I responded teasingly.

"Be back by nine," she deadpanned.

"Plan on being back well before then," I laughed. "Just a jaunt around the lake I think. It's a warm evening and I'm amazingly done with homework."

"Except for that runes final you've been complaining about," Millicent countered.

"Except for that," I winced a bit. Oh well I plenty of time to get to that!

"Do try to not lose us anymore points, dearie," Tracey commented, obviously choosing to continue the mother-daughter analogy longer than completely necessary. I don't think either of my parents had ever called me that, either. Although I'm not sure that's completely relevant.

"I'm still positive on the year," I teased. Ever since second year we'd kept a tally of points gained versus points lost. Tracey or Millicent usually won but this year I was doing pretty well for myself. Typically we all gained more than we lost.

"Not if you keep this up!" Tracey giggled. "Someone's bound to wander in on you and Potter going at it! And that's going to be a massive amount of points deducted. At least it won't all be from Slytherin.

"That's not about to happen," I laughed. Of course the conversation came back to Potter. Part of me suspected I was lucky they still only joked about it. Granted, my friends didn't like him, and didn't want to bother taking the time to get to know him, but there was still an underlying tension every time he was mentioned. Tracey could joke, sure, but my reactions and comments were judged far more than they probably should have been. Of course, no matter what I said it didn't sway their opinions, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to at least defend myself as best as I could.

"Your hiding spot can't be that good," Millicent laughed.

"Oh it's pretty good," I smirked. Part of me wanted to tell them about Potter's room. But part of me didn't want anyone to know about it. It was too fun to abuse myself. Well, at least on the days that it cooperated. Of course, I didn't try to use it that much and I'd only used it once without Potter. Still, that one time was so worth it.

"Tracey and I will find you eventually," Millicent teased. I know they'd joked about how they'd gone looking for me before. I suspect they didn't, and just wanted me on my toes.

"You're just going to get caught and lose points," I deadpanned.

"Less that you'll lose for getting caught with him!" Tracey deadpanned.

"Oh yes, we'll just lose massive amounts of points for meeting the only time we could to do our Transfiguration homework!" I gasped, trying to sound as affronted as I could. Tracey rolled her eyes, but Millicent laughed. Deep down I like to think she believed me when I denied doing anything with Potter. But I think part of me was just being naïve with that thought. So, I ducked out of the common room before they made any more comments.

I thought about heading up to Potter's room as I walked. But seven flights of stairs was a lot and the exercise would do me good. So instead I walked, rather slowly, toward the entry hall.

I daydreamed a bit as I walked. But not really about anything unusual. Mostly I just lost myself in my own thoughts and kept walking down the hallway. I didn't even notice when Harry Potter feel into step with me.

"Hi Daphne!" he said exuberantly. I blinked a little bit. Sure, he was usually happy to see me, but that seemed a little bit over the edge. He was dressed surprisingly nice for him, in clean jeans and a button up shirt that was a little bit for him but didn't look too out of place. I suspected it may have been magically altered a bit, but not that much.

"Harry," I said quietly. He reached out and took my arm in his. I blinked a little bit. Sure, we'd held hands plenty of times. But he'd never taken my arm and presumed to lead me about. I almost pulled it away but part of me kind of liked the thought. It made me feel a little bit like I was at a ball.

So instead I leaned against him a bit and we continued to slowly walk through the castle. We were silent for a few moments and he didn't seem to mind the slow pace I set. After a few moments of walking I stared up at him. He wasn't looking at me. Instead he was just humming quietly as we walked, with an absurdly large smile plastered onto his face.

"So where were you heading?" I asked quietly. Really I wanted to know why he had the silly smile plastered on his face. But that just seemed like a rude way to start a conversation, so I started with a different tactic.

"We're going to Hagrid's," he responded. I blinked.

"No, I'm going for a walk round the lake," I said slowly. "Almost in the complete opposite direction of Hagrid's."

"No, we're going to Hagrid's," Harry affirmed. I blinked a little bit. He said it with such confidence and gusto that it took me a moment to even realize that I had no interest in going to visit the gamekeeper. I suppose he was actually a professor, but I'd never taken Creatures. I think, once or twice, I'd seen the half-giant talking to Potter, too, but I'd never taken any note of it. I knew, though, that he likely had a reason for wanting to go.

"And why are we doing that?" I asked. I sighed as I realized that I was likely to wind up seeing far more of the giant than I ever really wanted to. But what was I going to do. Maybe it would be fun.

"His spider died," Harry said. I paused and shook my head. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be fun.

"His spider died?" I asked, intending to make sure that I heard him right. That didn't seem to quite warrant visiting someone.

"Yes," Harry responded. "He's burying it tonight."

"Well that shouldn't take long," I said as we entered the entranceway. A few moments later we were outside. It was still warm, but one of those evenings where you could tell it would get colder in a hurry. "After we can walk around the lake."

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "I don't have that good of a feeling about the lake."

"And you have a good feeling about burying a spider?" I laughed. Part of me was annoyed by his excuse. But I was more amused by how he was acting. I couldn't help but wonder if he was under the effects of some sort of spell. I suspected he'd protest if I started a magical diagnostic, so I'd have to approach that subject more tactfully.

"Yes," he responded quickly. "And the greenhouses."

"The greenhouses?" I responded dryly.

"Yeah, I have a good feeling about the greenhouses," he said. And then he completely changed direction, pulling me with him. "Let's go to the greenhouses."

"Why the hell are we going to the greenhouses?" I laughed. I didn't intend to laugh, I wanted to sound angrier. I hated going there during class and really had no interest in going near any of them during free time.

"Because I've got a good feeling about the greenhouses," he said.

"But I don't want to go to the greenhouses," I responded dryly.

"We won't be there for long," he said, obviously attempting to reassure me.

"Then why are we going there at all?" I tried to sound bitchy, but he just shrugged.

"Feel like I should," he said.

"Can't we do something a little bit more fun than that?" I asked. "I mean I'm so not going to fool around with you surrounded by flesh-eating plants."

"Why not?" he asked with a little bit of a smirk.

"Because that's disgusting?" I commented.

"I don't know," Harry commented. "There's a few plants that may look nice with some vines on your body."

"Ew," I squealed. And I stared at him for a moment. "That is so wrong and never, ever, under any-" and then he started laughing.

"Teasing, Daphne," he said. "I can freely admit that vines aren't something I'm interested in seeing on you."

"Good," I scoffed. I'd have crossed my arms over my chest and looked annoyed, but he was still holding my arm as we walked, so it made that impossible. Part of me wanted to ask what he'd rather see me in. But I wasn't in that teasing of a mood as I was still thinking about plants. That didn't stop Potter, though.

"Things like bubbles, though, that's a different story," he commented. "Or little strips of silk." And I felt all the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Potter!" I scolded. Although I didn't really mind that he was talking like that. It just seemed really out of character for him.

"What?" he asked, as if he couldn't imagine why I was scolding him. I was just silent for a moment.

"Are you feeling alright?" I asked.

"I'm feeling fantastic," he smiled happily as he spoke. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you don't normally act like this," I said.

"Like what?" He asked and I couldn't really come up with a comment. I suppose he was acting somewhat normal. But it was just, enhanced, to some way I suspect. It was hard to place or describe. So I just shrugged.

"I don't really know," I said. "But you're usually not about to say something like that to me."

"Does it bother you?" he asked. We were pretty much at the greenhouses by then. So I just shrugged, not really wanting to give him any sort of an answer to that question. I suspected it would be more fun for him if he figured it out by himself.

"We're at the greenhouses," I responded. "Can we leave yet?"

"Not yet," he said. He wandered around, between the greenhouses, pulling me with him as he did.

"It even smells outside the stupid things," I groaned as he pulled me around the paths. I was probably making it a bit more difficult for him to move than I really needed to. But a walk around the lake was a much, much better idea than this!

"Oh it's not that bad," he commented. He looked like he was looking around for something.

"It's pretty awful," I countered. He just shrugged, not seeming that interested in continuing the conversation about how bad the greenhouse smelled. So I stopped bitching and just let him lead me around the Herbology area. Eventually he spoke up.

"Hello Professor!" he said, loudly. I almost jumped. Professor Slughorn did jump. He looked around and then looked toward us. He quickly tucked a small shear and some pods into his pocket. I vaguely remembered Professor Sprout talking about those. Something about they only bloomed in the evening and were used for some sort of potions ingredients. I think they were expensive, but I didn't recognize them clearly enough.

"Harry Potter!" Slughorn said. He then looked at me, but didn't say anything. I half wondered if he even knew my name. I doubted it. But that shouldn't surprise me as I wasn't in potions. And I couldn't remember if I'd been introduced to him at the party or not. So instead I just smiled. I probably should have been a little more annoyed at being arm candy. But I couldn't have looked that appealing. I wasn't even wearing any makeup.

"How are you tonight, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Good, good," Professor Slughorn responded. "Professor Sprout was just helping me replenish my potions stores for the younger years. But she had a meeting and was forced to leave." I struggled to not laugh at the excuse. If there was a staff meeting, wouldn't Professor Slughorn's presence have been required?

I suppose she could have had a house meeting, but those were very rare. At least they were very rare for Slytherin. Then again, Professor Sprout was much more personable than Professor Snape. So perhaps Hufflepuff had more house activities or something. I didn't hear any of the Hufflepuffs talk about that. But that didn't mean much, as I usually didn't pay that much attention when other people gossiped about their house-based activities.

Either way, Potter didn't seem fazed by his excuse.

"Sounds fun." Harry responded. "Need a hand?" And I glared at him. I was so not helping him harvest some stupid plant.

"No no no," Slughorn responded. "I've just finished. But what are you doing out this late, Harry?" Professor Slughorn asked. He had a certain friendly demeanor to his words.

"Oh, okay," Harry said, smiling a bit.

"And just what is it that you're up to, Harry? It's a little late to be wandering around the grounds," Professor Slughorn said.

"Oh it's not that late," I commented. The professor smiled at me, but gave me a sort of bemused glance.

"We were going to go down to Hagrid's," Harry said.

"Oh yes, you're friends with him, aren't you," Professor Slughorn said. "I believe he was the one who came to get you when you were eleven?" I paused at that. I'd thought that Professor McGonagall typically visited the students. Then again, his relatives must have known about magic. I shrugged a little bit, but no one seemed to notice. I'd have to ask him about that at some point.

"Yes," Harry responded simply. "His spider died. So he's going to bury it tonight."

"Bury a spider?" Professor Slughorn asked. He looked a little confused as to why someone would bury a spider. I can't say I disagreed with him.

"Well it's a big spider," Harry said. "Gigantic really."

"An acromantula?" I asked.

"Well sure," Harry said. "They're like, ten to fifteen feet." He opened his arm as if trying to indicate scale. It didn't really work but the effort was kind of cute.

"I heard there was a colony in the forest," Professor Slughorn said. His eyes shifted toward Hagrid's hut.

"There is," Harry said. "But you don't want to go there. They think human is delicious."

"You've been to an acromantula colony?" I asked. I had a hard time believing that. On the rare occasion that a wizard stumbled into one, they often didn't make it out alive. And usually if they did it was because they apparated as far away as they could as soon as they saw the spiders coming.

"Second year," Harry affirmed. "Kept noticing that spiders were running away from the castle in droves. So Ron and I followed them into the forest and wound up surrounded by a bunch of acromantulas. It was one of the clues that it was a basilisk in the school." And Slughorn and I just stared at him. It was about ten seconds before anyone else spoke. In that time Harry wandered over toward one of the plants outside the greenhouse, pulling me with him, and just stared at him.

"Acromantula venom is very valuable," Professor Slughorn said first. "And it seems that not many people are going to help Hagrid send it off. Perhaps I should join the two of you. And you should be supervised being out this late." I vaguely remember mom talking about how it was used for some of the medicines she worked on. Antidotes I think. Mostly I just remember her complaining about how much it cost and how that was hindering their research.

I think Dad bought her a pint of it one year as a joke Christmas present. She'd been thrilled, but Astoria and I had been really confused as to why you would gift someone poison.

"If you like," Harry said with a quirky smile. I was still stuck on his earlier comments. I could tell my eyes were a bit narrow as I stared at him. I wanted to question him on that more, but now wasn't the time.

"I would," Professor Slughorn said. "Give the beast a better send off. I'll tell you what, Harry, let me head back to my office. I've got to drop these off at my office so they stay fresh. And then I'm going to grab a couple of bottles of mead and join you." He tapped his jacket as he spoke, no doubt gesturing to the plants.

"Okay professor," Harry said. "We'll meet you down there."

"Don't put the beast in the ground without me!" Slughorn joked. Potter just smiled at him and watched him leave. Then he pulled me back toward the path.

"And now to Hagrid's," he said. And he started walking in the direction of the small hut on the opposite side of the lake. I suppose I got some of my wish. As we had to walk sort of past the lake to get there. But it wasn't the same as walking around the lake. No matter how much I hoped it would be.

"A basilisk?" I said after a few moments. I didn't know much about the creatures, because I'd never really been interested in creatures. But they were a fearsome beast from what I gathered.

"Yeah, it was living in the chamber of secrets," he said.

"And petrifying people for fun?" I asked.

"Well it was trying to kill them," he commented. "At least I think it was. There was just a bunch of random events that happened that made them wind up petrified rather than dead."

"I see," I said. I didn't believe him. But I didn't have anything to add. Or any type of comment to make that would matter. And the more I thought about it, the more odd it seemed. I mean, say what you will about Potter, but from everything I'd seen, he was honest. And he never struck me as that creative. So he wouldn't just make something up.

"Anyway," he said, quickly changing the subject with an annoyingly modest shrug of his shoulders. "We're almost to Hagrid's."

"I see that," I said, dryly. "I don't see a giant dead spider, though."

"It's probably around back," Harry said as we stepped onto the path that led toward the surprisingly small hut the half-giant lived in.

"Joy," I said, staring around toward the fence that marked off the back yard. I did see a rather large pile of dirt was building up near the side of the house and could assume what that was from.

"Oh come now, it won't be that bad," he laughed as we stepped off the path and onto the grass, heading around the back of the home. I winced a little bit at the first step. But at least it wasn't muddy. Nothing was quite as tedious as trying to vanish chunks of mud off the bottom of your shoe without accidentally vanishing part of the sole of the shoe.

"I'm so not dressed for a funeral," I scoffed. He shrugged and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

"You are more than I am. You've at least got a black skirt and black shoes on. Oh and black tights. And the grey top is pretty close to black. And your legs look fantastic, by the way," he added the last comment almost flippantly. I just blushed and looked away.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"Now at least act like you're vaguely interested in being here," he smiled cheerfully as he scolded me. Which was a little annoying. "Although I suppose the dour expression is more suitable for a funeral."

"Sorry," I muttered quietly. And then I immediately wondered why I was apologizing. I didn't want to be there! I was completely uninterested in being there! And he just kept pulling ahead! So I finally got annoyed and shook my arm out of his. I quickly shoved my hands into the small pockets the skirts had. Potter didn't seem to care. Or even notice for that matter. He just kept walking, and eventually I saw one of the grossest things I'd seen in my life.

A giant, dead, hairy, spider. I can't even really accurately describe it. It was upside down, and the eight legs were sticking out in all sorts of different directions. It's mouth, if you can call it a mouth, was open and there was a little bit of what could only be acromantula venom dripping from it. It was resting on some sort of tarp and looked like it had probably been dragged out of the forest. I gagged a little bit, but thankfully hadn't eaten since lunch.

Needless to say, I sidestepped to the other side of Potter, putting as much distance between myself and the dead creature as possible. And hey, if he fought a basilisk, then he should be able to hold his own against a zombie-spider, right?

"Hello Hagrid," Potter said as he walked up toward the large hole in the ground. I could make out a mess of black hair moving inside the hole. A few more piles of dirt landed dangerously close to my feet, I hopped back a little bit.

"Harry!" Hagrid yelled as he climbed out of the hole. But a moment later his expression completely changed. "You shouldn'ta come! 's late!"

"You invited me!" Harry laughed. "And it's not that late," he added, quoting me. Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders and then hugged Harry tightly. Harry gasped and laughed, but let him. I took a few steps away, not really wanting to get involved in that. A moment later Hagrid stepped away from Harry.

"Guess I did," he said gruffly. Then he saw me. His eyes rested on me for a few moments, but his expression remained completely passive. I saw his eyes slide from the snake crest on my chest to my lazily tied green and silver tie. Of course, maybe he was just leering at me. "Who's yer friend?"

"Daphne," Harry responded simply. I smiled but made no other movement.

"She's a-" Hagrid started.

"Blonde," Harry finished.

"Aye," Hagrid said. "Yer father always preferred darker hair."

"I like blondes," Harry said. I blushed a bit and continued being a wallflower.

"I see that," Hagrid said. "An' I was waitin' fer you and Hermione." I narrowed my eyes and stared at the giant. It took me a moment to react. I just took a step forward and held out my hand.

"Daphne Greengrass," I said as formally as I could manage. Hagrid looked at me, a little confused, but took my suddenly incredibly tiny hand into his and shook it gently. "I'm sorry about your spider." I nodded to the beast.

"Erm, thanks. Nice to meet ya," he responded stiffly and after a moment I withdrew my hand.

"You too," I smiled a little bit, as coquettishly as I could. Hagrid looked a little bit startled.

"Well we should get started," Harry said. He looked at me a little bit, curiously, and I turned toward him and gave him a practiced frown.

"We can't!" I gasped.

"Why not?" Hagrid asked.

"We have to wait for Professor Slughorn!" I gasped. I suspect I was being a little over the top, but Hagrid didn't notice.

"That's right," Harry sighed. "He did say he'd be coming!"

"Ya didn' get into trouble when he found out?" Hagrid asked, looking alarmed.

"Not at all," a jovial voice said from behind the two of us. "It just seemed the neighborly thing to do."

"Erm, hello Horace," Hagrid said. Professor Slughorn walked right up to Hagrid and pushed three bottles of mead straight into his arms. I noticed he slipped a couple of vials down into his hands after.

"Hello Hagrid," the professor responded. "Terribly sorry for your loss. A magnificent creature!" and he reached out and touched one of the hairy legs. It trembled a bit, but only because of the new pressure. That didn't prevent it from making me a bit squeamish, though. So I walked away, moving a bit away from the hole and told the forest. I debated going and petting his large dog, but decided against that.

"Aragog was a true friend," Hagrid said.

"I am sure he was. And look at those mandibles. A wonderful specimen. You don't mind if I take a look? The venom is so very rare, I've never seen it so fresh!"

"I erm, I dunno," Hagrid said. I could sense the hesitation in his voice. And I suspected Professor Slughorn looked fairly nervous about it.

"Eek! What is that!" I gasped. And moments later the gamekeeper was standing next to me.

"What?" he asked, scanning the edge of the forest where I was looking.

"I thought I saw something it was large and brown," I said. It was the best lie I could come up with on short notice. But it seemed to work.

"Coulda jus' been a centaur," Hagrid said, but his eyes stayed focused on the forest, and he stayed rather tense. I felt bad for tricking him.

"Must have been. I don't know anything about magical creatures," I sighed. I didn't like playing the ditz. But it appeared to be working. Harry was moving slowly toward us. But he stopped a few feet away.

"Most won' get to close to my hut," Hagrid said. "At least the hostile ones won'"

"Well that's good to know," I sighed. I gazed quickly over my shoulder and couldn't see Professor Slughorn, so I assumed he was still harvesting venom.

"Aye," he said again. He started to turn and I went with the only gambit I had.

"My sister loves your class," I said.

"What?" He looked startled.

"Astoria," I said. "She raves about it."

"She does?" he asked, looking a little startled.

"Uh-huh," I said smiling as sweetly as I could.

"Huh," he sighed. "I ough' to call on her more. She usually jus' hides in the back." And I couldn't help but smirk a little. That was pretty much the perfect revenge for all the snotty comments. Prepare to actually have to work in class, Astoria.

"Oh, I'm sure she would love that!" I said.

"Huh," Hagrid said again, looking slightly befuddled, but I just smiled sweetly at him.

"Hey, Hagrid," Harry said. He looked slightly worried as his eyes shifted between a now standing Professor Slughorn and Hagrid. "I think it's time to bury Aragog." Slughorn looked almost giddy. I shifted away from Hagrid and walked up next to Potter. He looked at me a little bit, appraisingly, I just took his arm and rested my head on his shoulder in as ditz-ish of a gesture as I could muster.

"Astoria likes Care for Magical Creatures?" he asked quietly. I watched as Professor Slughorn and Hagrid worked the giant spider into the grave. I was rather glad I wasn't asked to help. But then again, I'd have probably just suggested we levitate the corpse. Still, Hagrid looked like it was something he wanted to do himself. And I guess I could respect that.

"Not a clue," I responded just as quietly. "But I would doubt it."

"Then why did you tell him that?" He asked, looking a little confused.

"Shush," I responded as they lowered the spider, Aragog, I suppose I should think of it by its name. He looked a little confused but then noticed they were finished lowering the spider into the grave.

I watched as Slughorn exchanged a few words with Hagrid and then started to talk about the spider. I didn't listen too closely. But I felt he did a fairly good job. Even though I wasn't paying that close of attention, I still felt like I knew and missed the spider. Sophistry at its finest! Oh well, Hagrid and Harry both seemed to enjoy it, so I suppose that was good enough.

After the three boys or men, if one prefers, finished burying the spider. Hagrid had a gravestone made out. It was small and grey and I was too far away to read exactly what was written on it. But he placed it at the head of the grave and then looked around.

"Well, erm, thank ya for coming," he said. But Slughorn smiled and gestured to the bottles of alcohol that had wound up leaning against his hut.

"It was our pleasure, Hagrid," Professor Slughorn said. "But now we must send it off in style! And walked over to one of the bottles and just tossed it. He picked up another and then somehow made three glasses. He poured equal amounts into the three and handed one to me and one to Harry. He smiled at Harry and look a large sip of his.

I was watching Hagrid open the bottle and take a large swig out of it as they exchanged some comments. I thought I heard something about poison and looked between the two of them for a moment, but they were laughing. Strange. I brought my own cup to my nose and sniffed. The smell reminded me a bit too much of the Christmas Party, so I just took a tiny sip to not appear out of place.

And that's pretty much how I found myself, well after dark, sitting on a slightly smelly couch in Hagrid's hut. At that point, Potter and Slughorn were drunkenly dancing while Hagrid was singing some type of a song. I was still sipping my first glass of mead.

Moments later Potter fell onto the couch next to me. He looked a little hammered and just smiled at me, and then at Hagrid and Slughorn, who were both singing another song at that point. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I wasn't that tired, but I assumed feigning hammered and asleep would probably get me out of the situation sooner. This really wasn't how I wanted the night to go.

Moments later I heard a loud thud and opened one eye to see Hagrid had fallen into a large chair. He was asleep and started snoring almost immediately. Slughorn then fell into a chair across from the couch Potter and I were on.

"You have her eyes," he sighed longingly and gazed at Harry.

"I know," Potter said blearily. He wasn't really coherent. I feigned sleep again as Professor Slughorn told a story about Harry's mom. I found myself listening, anyway. It was a sad story. I reached up and quietly brushed a tear from my eye as he finished it.

"So help me," Harry argued a moment later. Slughorn, though, just shook his head.

"I can't," he said. And I opened my eyes and looked at Harry for a moment. He looked very frustrated, and like he was about to plead with Slughorn. But I sat up and looked at him.

"You know, Professor," I said as sweetly as I could muster. "My mother works with acromantula venom."

"Oh yes," he said carefully. I suspect he matched me and Astoria in his head and then remembered that he liked her, and invited her to his little parties. Either way Harry glared at me, and for a moment, I thought he may have hated me for changing the subject. "The medical researcher."

"Indeed," I said. "And it just occurred to me that she could probably use a fair amount of it for that research. You do know how expensive it is, after all."

"Just what are you implying, Miss Greengrass?" he responded, sizing me up.

"Well the way I see it, I distracted Hagrid for long enough for you to harvest what you needed. So I'm entitled to at least half," I argued.

"Daphne," Harry said sternly, he was still glaring at me.

"Shush Potter," I said and I leaned over and put a hand on his knee, gripping it sternly. "I didn't get dragged out here for nothing." I actually hoped that Hagrid didn't hear me.

"That's ridiculous," Slughorn said.

"I don't think so. You don't honestly suspect that we believe you had Sprout's permission to gather all those plants?" It was a bit of a gamble, I know.

"Of course I did!" he sounded affronted. "They're for my students!"

"Or your coffers," I sighed and gave him a bemused look. "Of course, I suppose when I tell Sprout you intended to sell them, she'll make sure they're used for just your students. But I don't really want that. I'm sure we can come to an understanding." He stared at me for a few moments, his eyes as calculating as someone's could be for the amount of alcohol he'd consumed.

"What do you want? Half?" he asked. I just smiled sweetly. Potter was still glaring at me. I'd never seen his eyes that furious. His jaw was set tightly and I think he may have been about to hit me.

"Oh no," I sighed. "I'm not sure I could get it to mom fresh." It was a lie, it wouldn't be that hard to charm it. Hell, Slughorn probably already had.

"Well then?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"It was Potter's idea to come," I said. "So he's entitled to something too." And out of the corner of my eye I saw him blink and his jaw unclench. In a single moment all of his features softened.

"The memory," Harry said. I blinked a little bit. Why the hell would he want a memory? Poor negotiation, if you ask me.

"I.." Slughorn let his voice trail off. He was starting to look a little less coherent.

"The memory, or we'll make sure you don't make a single knut," I smiled a bit.

"Fine," Slughorn sighed. And he took out his wand and moments later was depositing a strange silver liquid into a vial. He offered it to me, purely because I was closer. I took it carefully and looked at him.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said carefully. Slughorn signed. The bit of magic seemed to have taken more of a toll on him. I wondered if drunken spell casting was harder.

"Just, don't think less of me, Harry. You have no idea what he was like," Slughorn sighed as his eyes slowly closed.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Professor," I said dryly as the potions master drifted off to sleep.

"Thank you, Daphne," Potter said, and he reached for the memory. I stood up and didn't let him take it.

"No," I said.

"But Daphne!" he gasped. "You have no idea how important that is!" And I just looked at it a bit before shrugging and tucking it into my pocket.

"You're right, I don't," I said. "But you dragged me out here, had me bury a dead spider, and then had me sit while the three of you got hammered. I'm never going to get the drunken old man smell out of my nostrils. And I'm so making you earn it."

"Daphne," he growled. I just turned and walked out of the hut. A few moments later he joined me outside, stumbling a bit.

"You okay there, soldier?" I teased. Somehow that reminded me of something from earlier in the semester, but I didn't dwell on it long enough to figure out exactly what it was.

"How much did I drink?" he asked. I shrugged.

"More than me," I said as we moved back toward the castle.

"Give me the memory," he said bluntly.

"Earn it," I commented. "I seem to be the reason you managed to get it out of his head in the first place."

"I'd have gotten it eventually," he argued.

"Possibly, but we won't know that anytime soon," I said. "Unless you want me to go give it back to Slughorn?" He didn't respond to that one. Instead he just glared at me again and then spoke up.

"How?" he asked. I smiled.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you've already ruined my evening. And since there's no way I'm going to make it back to the dormitory tonight without getting myself a detention. Your task is to get me to your stupid little room and get it to work and entertain me for the rest of the night," I explained. He looked at me for a few moments. I suspect he was debating just stunning me and taking the memory. But he didn't go that route. Instead he just nodded.

"Easy enough," he said, and then he smirked a bit. "Follow me."

"Included in that," I said as I followed, "is any task I think of between now and tomorrow morning." He just laughed.

"Alright," he sighed as we entered the castle. And amazingly enough we made it up seven flights of stairs and to the outside of his room. The door opened almost immediately and I stepped inside to what I can best describe as a studio apartment.

It was really more of a kitchen, with a breakfast bar and some stools, a decent chunk of empty space, and a queen sized bed. There was an opened door that led to bathroom and a couple of closets and a dresser as well.

"I just wanted a bedroom," Harry said, looking around. I'd have commented that was presumptuous of him, but it wasn't like this was the first time we'd have slept in the room.

"I'm hungry," I sighed. And I opened the cabinets to look for food. They were barren.

"I don't know if the room can do food," Harry said. He was still wobbling a little bit and flushed with the drink. But I didn't think he was any more than tipsy. I frowned at him.

"I want pancakes," I said.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go get the ingredients. You wait here."

"Fine," I said. "I'm going to shower."

"Okay," he said again, and he left me in the room. I took the memory out of my pocket and put it on the bedside table before walking over to the dresser and picking out some clothing to change into after my shower. I'd learned that the room did let you keep things it created. It was a wonder I didn't have an entire new wardrobe yet. But part of me expected it would be like leprechaun gold and eventually disappear.

I ducked into the bathroom and dropped the clothing onto the counter before starting the shower. I guessed at about the temperature I'd want and started to strip. I peeled my clothing off slowly, starting with my multi-layered top. I looked in the mirror when I was done and just sighed a bit before getting into the shower.

The water felt wonderful, as always. I had no idea where Potter would go for the ingredients, so I had no idea how much time I had. Of course, that didn't prevent me from sliding my hands gently over my arms and shoulders, my chest, down my stomach, around my hips and legs.

Those where bristlier than I'd have liked. Thankfully the room provided a razor and some shaving cream! I should have probably just gotten out of the warm water and grabbed my wand and used a spell. But I liked the feeling of it all on my skin. I always had. Of course, tomorrow I'd have to do it all magically or risk having to shave far too often for my tastes.

Anyway, I sat on the little seat in the corner of the shower and shaved my calves and shins. I followed that up by doing my arms, and then finished off my legs and the rest of my lower body.

After that I just let the warm water cascade down on my body, hitting me everywhere. It was nice. It's always nice. Water may be the single most wonderful thing on the face of the planet.

I stood to wash my hair. Only because I'd felt like I'd been in the shower long enough and he had to have been back with the ingredients by then. I begrudgingly stepped out of the shower and towel dried off quickly. My hair took the longest. And it was still a little damp by the time I was done. I could have easily fixed that, but I thought I looked nice with damp hair. I may have been nuts, but hey.

I looked through the clothing I brought with me and found the underwear. I pulled the green silk panties on and giggled a little bit at the touch of the fabric on my skin. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd subconsciously grabbed that pair out purely because of his comments from earlier in the evening. I pulled on a pair of shot green cotton shorts next, followed by a pale pink cotton tank top. Sure, it didn't match, but I didn't care.

I then quickly brushed my teeth and combed my hair. I didn't put forth as much effort into either as I should have. But at least made the effort to make my breath minty fresh! Although the mead probably tasted better than the toothpaste.

I stepped back out into the room after that. The soft carpet felt nice on my bare feet. Potter sat at the dining bar and smiled at me. He appeared to be organizing the ingredients he'd brought back.

"Drunk old man smell gone?" he teased. I shrugged a little bit and walked over to the kitchen part of the room.

"You tell me," I teased. He put his face into my hair and sighed.

"Yes," he said, lifting his head. "Vanilla yummy Daphne smell is back."

"Good," I sighed. I didn't have the heart to tell him he still smelled a bit like Hagrid's. He nodded and started rubbing my back gently. I slipped away from him and started mixing up a batch of pancakes.

"I can do that," he said quietly. I shrugged.

"I got it," I responded. I liked making pancakes. They didn't take that long and were delicious. He just watched me work. I hummed a bit as I did. A few moments later I served up two plates of pancakes. He got us some water. I found it a little odd that the room could do water, but not food. Of course, it was probably connected to the castle pipes somehow. And he waited for me to use the syrup.

It didn't take either of us long to eat. When we were done I stood and took out my wand. I cleaned off one of the plates then just laughed.

"What?" he asked, eyeing me as I laughed and looked at the other dirty dishes.

"What's the point?" I countered. "The room will just take care of it when we leave."

"That's handy," he laughed. I nodded.

"Yes, it is," I admitted. He was quiet for a few moments.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked. He wasn't flushed anymore. So he likely didn't have a buzz anymore. His words seemed a bit closer to back to normal too. The unidentifiable edge from earlier was gone.

"Sleep," I sighed.

"That's easy," he said, and I knew he was referring to how I was making him earn the memory.

"I never intended for it to be hard," I smiled.

"I see," he smiled back. "Would you mind if I took a shower, too?"

"No," I lied. I'm not sure why it bothered me, but I was hoping he'd pay a bit more attention to me.

"Thank you," he said. And he stood and walked toward the bathroom. I stayed seated at the breakfast bar for a few moments, before sliding off of my stool and moving over to the bed. I crawled in and let the warm blankets engulf me.

I'm not sure how long it took Potter to shower. But I wasn't asleep, nor was I fully awake, by the time he slipped into the bed as well. My eyes opened blearily for a moment, but I didn't really see anything. He must have turned off the lights.

He pulled me to him as he lay down. He was shirtless. With the exception of the time after we'd shared a bath, he'd always slept with a shirt on. I guess he just didn't feel like it tonight. I shifted against him, just trying to get comfortable. But my thoughts of that changed as he kissed me.

I liked when he kissed me. So I kissed him back. And we just kept kissing and kissing and kissing and it was wonderful. I lost myself in his lips, in his tongue, and in him. And I didn't care.

I'm not sure when he wound up on top of me. But I loved the way his weight felt on me. And he was so very warm. And his lips were so very nice. I'm also not sure when he started sliding his hands around my sides and over my stomach. But he distracted me from any thoughts of that by shifting his lips to my neck and shoulder. I let out a soft little moan as he did, and it just spurred him on.

When his hands slid under my tank top I didn't protest. At first, he just pulled it up a little, and traced his nails over my bare stomach. But then he was pulling it up more and I did all I could. I lifted my arms up and let him take it off of me.

"Mmm Daphne," he whispered as he stared at me. I was blushing, I know that for sure. I could feel that. But I'm sure he couldn't see it. After all, all I could see was his glowing green eyes.

Moments later his lips were back on mine. And then again they were on my neck. And moments later they pressed to my breasts. I gasped and closed my eyes. My hands slid around him. I ran them up his back as much I could. But he kept sliding his lips down, slowly shifting away from my touch. His lips felt as nice on my stomach as they had on every other bit of skin they'd touched.

I was panting by the time he kissed the waistband of my shorts. I'd never felt how I felt at that moment. I was so empty that I just ached. My entire body ached. I felt hollow. I needed him.

But he went the wrong way. He kissed back upwards, over my stomach, and then his lips were once again on mine. I just groaned.

"Harry," I whispered quietly into the darkness.

"Daphne," he responded between kisses. I swallowed hard and shifted my head away from his for a moment. He lifted himself up and just looked at me. I bit my bottom lip and shivered.

"Go ahead," I said. It was the best I could manage. But I think he got it. He sat up, and I just kept staring at him. He took a deep breath and ran his hands very slowly down my sides. They caught in the waist of my shorts, and I lifted my hips as he pulled the final two layers of clothing off of me in one slow motion.

"Your turn," I said as teasingly as I could manage. But my voice was little more than a whisper, and I'm not sure if I actually said anything, or just gasped out a little air. I just lay there for a few moments, completely exposed to him. But he seemed to get the impression, though, as he pulled off the last vestiges of his own clothing.

And then he was on top of me again, kissing me. And my legs spread around him. I felt him rubbing against, well, _me. _ And I liked it. I more than liked it. It was incredible. He just kept kissing me, shifting against me. I pressed back to him.

Eventually, but what could have only been a few moments later, we shifted correctly in unison. And after that moment, he was inside of me. And I'd felt nothing like it. But not in a good way. I was being split. I wanted to cry. My nails dug into his back and I gasped as he pressed into me.

"Harry," I whined, wincing against him. I could feel tears coming. I felt broken, damaged. It hurt so much.

"Daphne," he gasped, his expression one of pure bliss. The opposite of what mine must have been. "Are you-"

"Shush," I gasped. "Kiss me." And he did. First he kissed my cheeks, where he must have saw tears, and then he kissed my lips. And slowly, the pain dulled to just a throbbing. And at some point he started shifting against me while he kissed me. And then I realized what everyone else was on about.

I'd never felt anything like it. Where earlier I'd felt so empty. Now I felt so complete. I'm not sure when I started moving with him. But that just made everything feel better. And so we just kept kissing, and gasping. And I loved the way his hot breath felt on my lips and neck as he pressed into me. And it continued.

He started going faster, but I'm not sure he even realized it. By that point I didn't mind. I just kissed him harder in response. I loved his little gasps. I liked hearing him. And I'm pretty sure he liked hearing me, judging by how he responded every time I squealed with delight.

And then, with a very loud gasp, he pressed fully into me one final time. And I'd never felt so nice, so warm, so wonderful and so complete. I could feel his pulse, his life, his everything.

"Wow," he whispered after a few moments of simply catching his breath.

"Uh-huh," I responded. And he just kissed me again. But it was soft and caring, the perfect counter to the intense kisses we'd just shared. It was a lover's kiss.

"Can we do that again?" he sighed softly. I giggled a bit in tune with him rolling us over. I missed his weight and the warmth it brought almost immediately. But his arms wrapped around me and he made sure the blankets covered us both.

"Uh-huh," I responded. It was all I could think to say at that point. He kissed me again, holding me tightly.

"Now?" he teased.

"In the morning," I yawned. He just sighed contentedly and I curled up against him. At least I think I did. I'm pretty sure I was asleep before I even finished moving.

Author's Note: As always thanks for reading and reviewing, I do appreciate it. The best way to contact me is likely a PM, I do try to respond to all of those.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, QuiteMike, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 16

The bath was wonderfully warm and bubbly and smelled slightly of vanilla. It was very pleasant. So pleasant I was having a difficult time staying awake in the water. Of course, I suppose I didn't really need to be awake. But it seemed like it would be a little bit rude to fall asleep.

Granted, it had been more than a little rude for him to wake me up when he got out of bed the next morning.

I'd just rolled around for a bit, attempting to find the warmest spot of the bed and fall back asleep. It hadn't really worked. Eventually I found myself staring at the digital clock on the table next to his side of the bed. No teenager should ever wake up at eight on a Saturday. It just shouldn't happen.

I closed my eyes for a few moments after, as I rolled back over to my half of the bed. It was freezing. Which just led me to believe that I'd spent most of the night cuddled up on his half. It was about then I realized I missed his warmth, and I wanted him to come back to bed, so I sat up and looked around the room.

It hadn't changed from the night before. I stretched a little bit, lifting my arms above my head. He wasn't at the breakfast bar, which just meant he wasn't making me food, so I looked around some more. He hadn't closed the bathroom door all the way, but the light was on. There wasn't any noise from anything, though.

I yawned a bit and looked toward my own bedside table. I'm not sure what I expected to find there. I suppose water, as I usually kept a glass on my table in my dorm. There wasn't any water there, though. Instead, there was a small goblet there. I just fell back onto the pillows and sighed.

It took me a moment to realize, or remember, I suppose, that the only thing that should have been on my bedside table was the memory in the vial from the night before. I looked over again, and the vial was still there, resting behind the goblet. I sat back up, curling my legs underneath me and leaned over looking at the goblet.

I recognized the silvery-pink liquid quickly enough. I'd seen Pansy drink it on a couple of occasions, and I'd heard Pansy and Tracey talk about it once or twice. Really, I couldn't help but think that this room may have been a little too clever for its own good.

Of course, that didn't prevent me from drinking the potion in its entirety. It had an annoyingly metallic taste, but I managed to get it all down without gagging. From what I'd heard, a full goblet would be effective for about a month. But the safest way was to drink it every two to three weeks.

It wasn't nearly as bad as Pansy and Tracey had tried to make it out to be. If a metallic taste in my mouth was the worst bit about it, well, I could certainly deal with that. Of course, they'd both complained about other side effects, so we'd just have to wait and see, I guess.

Of course, the two of them often just discussed the side effects the potion had. I'd read very little about them. Of course, I'd read pretty much nothing about the potion in general, so that was pretty much a moot point. But I suspected that they exaggerated any sort of unpleasantness, simply because they were babies.

If I really cared, I could just ask Granger in runes. It would be worth the lecture just to see her reaction. I couldn't help but giggle a little bit at that. But then I just went back to wondering what Potter was up to.

I was growing a little bit annoyed at being alone by that point. I glanced again toward the bathroom. The door was still slightly ajar and a sliver of light filtered into the otherwise dark room.

So I got up. I didn't really want to. I'd have rather fallen back asleep. But I was suitably intrigued by whatever it was that Potter was doing, and suitably annoyed that he hadn't come back to bed yet.

I winced a little bit as I first put my feet down on the ground. My body hurt. No, that's not the right term. My body didn't really hurt. I was just, well, sore, for lack of a better word. It was more uncomfortable than painful. But it didn't feel wrong. Instead, I just felt content, despite the soreness. I shrugged a little bit at that thought. It was strange.

I mean, I could tell, just by standing, that moving was going to be a bit annoying for at least part of the day. I shrugged it off, though and shook those thoughts out of my head. It was enough that I felt, well, happy. That was good enough for me.

It took me a moment to remember I was naked. That just made me blush, despite the fact that no one was around to see me or comment. I grabbed a blanket off the top of the bed, one of those warm fuzzy soft ones, and wrapped it around my shoulders. It concealed pretty much all of me from the shoulders down, so that was a nice touch.

I, rather cautiously, approached the bathroom. It occurred to me about halfway there that Potter could be doing all sorts of things I'd rather not witness. I paused a little bit, a few feet away from the door, and tried to position myself to see inside without getting too close. No, I didn't actually think being a few feet closer would change any sort of mental image, but maybe I'd get lucky.

Unfortunately, I couldn't see much of the bathroom from that angle. For what it was worth, I could see the toilet, and it was blissfully not occupied. I tightened the blanket around my shoulders and moved a bit closer to the bathroom door.

I reached out to push it open. I'm not sure why that seemed like a better idea than peering around the open bit from a closer angle, but it did. I paused for a second, debating exactly what I was going to do. I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I should just leave him alone and start making breakfast or something. There had to be some leftover pancake batter or something I could use.

But I knew that was just a silly excuse. And I knew that I should probably go back to bed and see just whatever it was Potter had planned. I should just like, feign sleep and see if he would wake me up, or just grab the memory and leave. And the bed had been so wonderfully warm.

That seemed like an incredibly lazy thing to do, though. Granted, I wasn't usually the one who would complain about something being lazy. Or not do something because it made me feel incredibly lazy. In fact, the lazier it was, the more likely I was to do it. And wow was that a weird sentence.

So I worked up what little courage I possessed and came up with a fitting compromise.

"Harry?" I asked quietly into the empty room. I knew I should have been speaking loud enough for him to hear me. But he didn't respond immediately.

"Daphne?" he responded. I could sense the faux question in his voice, like he was simply matching my tone and not actually asking a question.

"What are you doing in there?" I asked sweetly.

"Nothing," he responded quietly. That caught me a little bit off guard. Why would he be in the bathroom then? Potter didn't strike me as the type to just sit around and do nothing in the bathroom. I frowned a little bit and was glad he couldn't see me through the door. I mean, my friends and I had all joked about boys and the morning countless times. Had I been so terrible the night before that he needed some alone time the next morning? If that's the case, that's a pretty big blow to my own ego.

"Oh," I said.

"Did you need to use the bathroom?" he asked.

"No," I responded, blushing a little bit. So to avoid any more embarrassing conversation, regardless of topic. "I was just wondering if you were going to come back to bed." And that sounded really strange coming off my tongue. Like it wasn't the type of thing I would ever say. And my voice was quieter than it normally is, even when I'm feigning being meek. And I was worried, too, and I have no idea why I was worried.

"I don't think so," Harry said. And that made my heart fall. Why wouldn't he want to? Did I really need another shower, or something? I realize he probably wasn't like me, and probably didn't get his rocks off by lounging around and doing nothing.

"Okay," I said. There wasn't anything in my voice. It was about as passive as a comment as I could have mustered and I realized I should have probably just barged into the room and been done with it.

"You can come in, if you want," he said after a few seconds of silence. "It's a little ridiculous talking through the door. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked." He was trying to joke, I know, but his tone stayed a little too dry for it to come across as much as I suspect he would have liked.

"I'm not naked," I responded as indignantly as I could muster. I pushed the door open and looked into the bathroom before taking a step in. Potter stood near a medium sized bathtub. It certainly wasn't the pool he'd created before, but it looked inviting nonetheless. He was gazing through what I could only assume to be bubble baths and had a towel around his waist.

"Either am I," he responded, not looking at me.

"And I didn't get that good of a look last night," I blushed. It was true too, I'd only had a few seconds to leer at him. Past that I'd been more focused on his eyes. I don't think I even looked away from his face during the entirety of the actual act.

"I did," he admitted and he looked at me with a little half-smirk. He tilted his head to the side and examined my outfit. "Is that what you're going to wear around the castle from now on?"

"No," I said bluntly and he just frowned at me.

"But it's very cute," he said. I turned my head to the side and looked into the mirror. The blanket was falling off my shoulders a little bit, revealing a tad more cleavage than I'd pretty much ever consider showing. I blushed a bit. Despite the memory of his mouth on them, I still didn't really like the idea of just being unclothed around him. And I do realize how Victorianly prudish that sounded.

"Maybe," I sighed, still looking at myself in the mirror. "But I don't think most professors would approve. They get annoyed enough when one doesn't wear the proper shoes, after all."

"I guess you're right," he commented idly. "Either way, I approve."

"Good to know," I laughed quietly. "I think I like you more in normal clothing than a towel."

"Ouch," he laughed. I just shrugged and shifted the blanket more tightly around me. In doing so I completely covered my body again, shoulders and all. Potter frowned as I did, but that was just too bad for him.

"So what were you doing up?" I asked, mostly to shift the conversation away from the fact that I was wearing a blanket and he a towel.

"I never sleep that well," he admitted. We'd never really talked about it, but I pretty much knew that. Every time we'd spent an evening together he'd always woken me up, I think unintentionally, when trying to get out of bed.

"I sleep like a rock," I said. It was kind of a silly thing to say as I'm sure he already knew that.

"I know," he smiled. "You tend to burrow into the crook of my neck. Your hair fans out around my chest and neck. It's very soft."

"Erm, thanks?" I said carefully. I reached up to run a hand through my hair. It wasn't that soft at the moment. Mostly it just felt a little greasy. And I'd washed it before we'd gone to bed the night before, too. I wondered if I needed to trick the room into coming up with some better shampoo.

"You're welcome," he said. "Anyway, you are rather nice to hold while you sleep. I just wrap the one arm around you and it works out. You're rather pretty while you sleep, too."

"Creepy," I said, looking at him cautiously. I didn't really like the thought of him watching me sleep. I knew it was irrelevant and he meant it in the nicest possible way, but it still freaked me out a little bit.

"Hey," he commented with a little shrug of his shoulders. "It's that or I get up earlier and wake you up sooner." And he won that argument without really trying. I just glared at him a little bit. It was quickly growing to be my favorite reaction.

"Anyway, what were you doing?" I asked. My best idea was getting him to answer the original question.

"Bossy," he responded with a smile.

"Yes," I said carefully.

"I was going to draw you a bath and then ask if you wanted breakfast. But then I remembered we didn't have any leftover food, and I didn't really feel like going out to get any. And then I got distracted by bubble baths. There are far too many different ones for anyone's good." He gestured to the many bottles that lined the far edge of the tub. I noticed it looked like he'd sorted through about half of them.

"I usually just pick the first one that smells good," I admitted, agreeing with his lament. But I actually enjoyed sorting through them, usually. I did have to admit, though, that it could be a bit overwhelming while shopping.

"They all smell good," he sighed. I giggled a little bit, causing the blanket to slide down my shoulders and Potter to glance at me.

"Then just pick one," I said. He took a moment to gaze at the bottles before making a suggestion.

"Lavender?" he asked, holding up one with a faint purple hue.

"Ew," I said.

"Strawberry?" he asked again, this time gesturing to one with a faint pink look.

"Eh," I responded with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Vanilla bean?" he commented, pointing to a white bottle.

"Perfect," I smiled and he just shook his head.

"I should have guessed that on the first attempt," he commented, I just nodded.

"Yeah, probably," I said.

"I think I like the flowery perfume more than the vanilla shampoo," Potter said, as he picked up the bottle of bubble bath.

"That's nice," I said dryly, narrowing my eyes to glare at him.

"Not that either is bad," he responded quickly as he seemed to realize the misstep. I just smiled a little bit at him.

"I've always preferred vanilla," I admitted. "But perfumes are usually a bit crispier, or flowery, or however you want to word it."

"Crispier?" he looked at me with his eyebrows raised.

"You know," I sighed. "Crisp. Fresh."

"I don't think you can just make that into crispier," he commented. "I think crispier pretty much just has to do with like, well done things."

"Quiet you," I said. I didn't feel like arguing grammatical semantics. Mind you, I probably could have, but I just didn't feel like it. And I was getting sick of standing around. And I still felt sore. And, on top of all that, I was starting to feel uncomfortably warm, mostly in my midsection. It was one of the side-effects Pansy and Tracey both complained of. At least I wasn't experiencing any of the other things they complained about. Well, at least not yet.

"Yes ma'am," he commented, apparently actually obeying my order to keep quiet. Although that just annoyed me as well, because I didn't really want him to stop talking. Thankfully, after a moment, he spoke up again. "So you'd like a bath then?"

"Couldn't hurt," I said. He looked at me and I realized that was probably a strange, non-committal response. But he reached toward the tap and turned the water on. I took a few steps toward the tub and looked at it as he poured in the bubble bath.

"So do you want me to go and find some food while you bathe?" he asked carefully. I looked at him for a few moments. I'd have loved some eggs, but I didn't really want to send him away. So instead I just smiled.

"No that's alright," I said. He nodded a little bit and ran a hand through the water before standing up.

"Okay then," he said, before sighing softly and standing back up. His towel hung very loosely on his hips and I felt a little bit warmer. I slid my tongue over my lips without really realizing it. They were far more parched than they probably should have been. Stupid side-effects. Pansy and Tracey had just both slipped up to the dormitory rather than going to class one morning. I shook my head a bit and tried to not think about what I really wanted to do.

I mean, really, Daphne, your body _hurt_ and that's all you can think about? You should be ashamed of yourself.

Either way, Potter distracted me by turning to leave. I blinked a little bit and watched him for a moment.

"Where are you going?" I asked. He looked startled when he looked at me.

"I uhm," he started before he shrugged a little bit. I had a feeling he wasn't going to tell the truth. But that changed when he spoke again. "I was going to just take the memory and let you relax."

"Is it really that important?" I asked.

"Yes. At least I think so," Harry said. I frowned a little bit. That didn't make that much sense, but I wasn't going to really argue it.

"Well, how about you tell me all about it?" I asked, smiling at sweetly as I could manage. Had I been a bit more experienced, I'd have probably let the blanket fall off part of my body at that point. But instead, I pulled it a bit closer around my shoulders.

"I don't know if that's smart," Harry said quietly. He looked at me for a moment, as if sizing me up. But he didn't leave.

"I helped you get the stupid thing, I deserve at least to know what the stupid thing entails," I argued. He didn't look like he believed me. But he sighed and started speaking.

"Well okay fine. I think it has something to do with a bit of magic called-" he started, but I interjected.

"Nuh-uh," I said, attempting to silence him. He just raised an eyebrow at me.

"You just said you wanted to know," he commented.

"I do. But in the bath," I said. Harry just stared at me.

"Really, Daphne?" he asked.

"Really, Harry," I responded, fighting every urge to call him Potter at that point. "I don't want to be left alone yet. And I want to know. And I want you to keep talking to me. And I want to be in the bathtub. Unless you'd prefer I tell people you don't like bathing with me." I frowned at the words. He just stared at me for a few more moments before sighing and walking back toward the slowly filling tub.

"Fine," he sighed gently, and then I just frowned.

"Unless you really rather not," I said quickly and looked away from him. "I mean, I don't want to force you to do anything. If you have to go you have to go. It's just early, and-"

"Quiet you," he interrupted me, using one of my favorite lines. And then he kissed me softly and I pretty much melted against his lips. I clung to him for a moment and in doing so the blanket fell off of my body.

"Sorry," I whispered as he let his hands slide down to my hips.

"No apology needed," he whispered. "Do you really want me to stay?"

"If you want to stay," I sighed at the corniness of my response. But it was the truth. If he felt the memory was more important than, well, I guess I could always find him later. And I certainly wouldn't complain about some alone time. Potter stepped back from me and just leered at my body. I didn't mind as much as I probably should have.

"I just didn't want to be presumptuous." His eyes slid slowly around me.

"Just get in the tub," I giggled. He laughed and moved toward it, letting the towel fall off as he did. I watched as he lowered himself into the water with a contented sigh. The tub was only about a quarter of the way full, but the bubbles still covered most of his body.

"Mmm nice and toasty," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the edge of the tub.

"I bet," I said, just staring at him. I'd completely forgotten that I was standing around naked. But I suppose you'll have that when you get distracted.

"You coming, Daphne?" he asked. I just nodded a little bit and walked up to the edge of the tub. I gingerly stepped into it and realized I was probably giving him more of a show than I'd have liked. So, I blushed and sat down as quickly as I could. I was pretty much in the middle of the tub with my knees up. I rested back, laying against his chest and sighed. The water was very nice. The vanilla tint wafted up to my nose.

And that's at least how I got here. It was nice. Even if I almost immediately wanted to fall asleep. He slid his arms around my waist and just held me for a few moments. And it was in that time that I realized he would likely be content to just let me fall asleep there. So instead I spoke up.

"So what was that memory about?" I asked.

"Don't know," Harry responded dryly. "Haven't watched it yet."

"Haha," I sighed. "What do you think it's about then?"

"I think it's about something I've been working on with Dumbledore," Harry admitted. "But I don't know exactly what I suspect it to be."

"Oh," I said. "Well can you enlighten me?"

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?" he asked.

"Doesn't everybody?" I lied. I had no idea, but I didn't want to sound like an idiot.

"Do you really?" he asked, sounding very surprised. And I suppose I managed to make myself sound like an idiot anyway. Perhaps honesty was really the best policy.

"Not a clue, actually," I admitted. "But I didn't want you to know that."

"You're silly," he said. I shrugged.

"Well, what are they?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I don't think I'll know for sure until I watch the memory."

"I see," I said. "And I'm keeping you from it?"

"Yes, you are," he commented.

"I'm also naked," I said.

"Yes, you are," he commented. And then his hands slid up from my stomach, sliding over every inch of my skin between there and my neck, before returning to rest on my stomach. I let out a soft little whimper as he did.

"Well you don't seem to be in that much of a hurry to leave anymore," I sighed.

"Pretty content right now," he admitted. And I just smiled a little bit to myself.

"Can I ask what you and Dumbledore are working on?" I asked. Which was silly considering I hated whenever someone asked a question that was essentially asking a question. Thankfully, Potter didn't answer with a yes or a no.

"He's showing me memories of Voldemort," he admitted. "I'm learning about him."

"Why?" I asked. That seemed to be a strange thing to do.

"Well he's back," Harry sighed. "And it's probably better to learn than to not."

"I guess," I said. I couldn't really argue against it. "But it isn't like he's really doing anything."

"That we know of," he countered. I couldn't really argue that either. "Unless you know something you're not telling me."

"No," I said.

"You know," he said quietly. "You've never really told me about your family."

"Well, you never really asked," I said. "And you haven't either."

"Well my relatives aren't worth talking about," he said. "So tell me about yours." I was going to argue, but it seemed easier to just not.

"Well my mom works part time at St. Mungo's, mostly dealing with traumatic cases of magic impairing someone's brain and does magical research otherwise," I said.

"What kind of research?" he asked.

"She works mostly with medical stuff. They're always looking for more efficient ways to heal people," I explained. I didn't really know much more than that. Well, with the exception of the article I'd read. But I wasn't sure I knew nearly enough of what she said there to explain it to someone.

"And your father?" Harry asked.

"He works at a Muggle hospital," I said.

"Really?" he asked. I just nodded a little bit.

"He claims it pays better than St. Mungo's," I commented. "But mostly I think he just likes helping people."

"And it probably pays more," Harry teased. I just nodded.

"Probably," I admitted.

"I do remember Pomfrey mentioning they interned at the hospital wing," he said. I just nodded a little bit.

"And then there's Astoria. And she's pretty much exactly what she appears to be," I sighed. Harry didn't comment, but just held me to him in the warm water. By that point the tub had filled completely so I reached out with a foot to turn off the tap.

"I see," he sighed.

"Tell me about your relatives," I ordered.

"There's not really much to tell," he sighed. "I go home briefly every summer. My aunt and uncle pretty much ignore me. My uncle works, my aunt doesn't. My cousin usually ignores me, too."

"That's depressing," I said. He just shrugged but kissed the top of my head.

"Usually the Weasley's invite me over and I spend the majority of the summer there," he admitted. I smiled just a little bit.

"I'm not sure that's any less depressing," I teased. He just laughed quietly.

"You know, Ron is my best friend, Daphne. You should be nice to him," he said.

"That doesn't mean I will be," I responded. "Maybe I'll just have to invite you over before he can."

"Oh, would your parents approve of that?" I giggled a little bit. For dinner, sure, but there was no chance in hell they'd let him spend the night.

"Well, probably, but we wouldn't be able to have sex," I admitted.

"Well I don't get to have sex with Ron, either," Harry commented dryly, and I just burst out laughing.

"I hope not," I said through giggles.

"Me too, actually," he laughed with me. "Can we have sex now?"

"Kind of sore," I sighed. "And I don't think it works in a bathtub."

"Really?" he asked. And I just shrugged.

"So yeah, I'm going to just keep asking you questions," I said.

"Oh fine," he faked sounding annoyed.

"Did you really kill a basilisk?" I asked, remembering the conversation we'd had outside the greenhouse when Professor Slughorn was hanging around.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"How?" I asked.

"With a sword," he responded.

"What are you a fencer now?" I laughed. I was shaking my head a little bit as he spoke.

"No, I just mostly flailed wildly and eventually got it," he laughed. "Stabbed it through the mouth."

"Well I suspect that works," I said. "But how did you not, well, get petrified. Or killed?"

"Fawkes clawed out its eyes," he commented flippantly.

"Who's Fawkes?" I asked.

"Oh, uhm, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix," he said.

"Professor Dumbledore has a phoenix?" I laughed.

"Yeah, Fawkes," Harry said. He chuckled quietly. "It mostly just sits around in his office. It's a strange bird, really. But helpful."

"I bet," I said. "So that was Slytherin's monster?"

"Yes," Harry responded.

"I hated second year," I sighed at the memories.

"Why?"

"Apart from the fact that people were just randomly getting petrified?" I asked dryly.

"You're a pureblood," he responded.

"So?" I said. "That doesn't mean you don't get freaked out when it all happens. And it's not like we had any idea what was really going on. And then Harry Potter is ordering snakes around and Harry Potter hates Slytherins!"

"Really?" he laughed.

"We were twelve," I commented as dryly as I could. "Most twelve year olds don't have the best deductive thought process yet."

"I suppose," he sighed. I could sense he probably wanted to argue it a bit more. "I'd assumed it was Draco."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Like you said, twelve year old logic. I didn't like him. He made those 'mudblood' comments in the hallway. It seemed to fit."

"I'd think he'd be smart enough to not threaten people publically if he was actually the one behind it," I said.

"Maybe," Harry said and I just rolled my eyes.

"So let me guess, Sirius Black really wanted to kill you, too," I laughed, even though it wasn't really a joking matter.

"Nope, not at all. He wanted to kill Ron's rat," Harry teased. "All he wanted to do with me was give me my Firebolt."

"What?" I laughed. "He broke out of Azkaban to kill a rat?"

"Yes," Harry said. "It wasn't a rat, though. It was a man named Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed my parents and framed Sirius for it, more or less. Sirius didn't particularly like that."

"Did he kill him?" I asked.

"No," Harry answered. "Pettigrew got away."

"I see," I said. "At least the security disappeared from the castle. That was a really depressing year."

"Tell me about it," Harry sighed. "Although we did destroy you at quidditch."

"Like I said, depressing year," I commented.

"Perhaps," he teased quietly, his breath barely a whisper from my ear.

"You're really not making this up, are you?" I asked. He just shook his head.

"No," he sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was."

"Do I even want to ask about fourth and fifth year?" I tried to tease. He just shook his head.

"You probably saw most of fourth. Just the tournament. Then Cedric at the end," he let his voice trail off. I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what there was to say. I mean I was one of the many people who thought he probably had done something to Cedric after they were zapped away.

Well, that's not overly fair. I don't think I actually thought him capable of doing something like that to Cedric. Not physically, I suppose, but it would have certainly seemed out of character. At the very least out of the character that I'd grown accustomed to in the last year. He let me stew in my own thoughts for a few moments. I'm sure he was doing the same. At least until he pressed his lips into my hair. Moments later, he spoke up once more.

"And fifth I didn't really do anything special," he sighed. "The highlight of my year was meeting up with and teaching defense classes."

"Probably better than Umbridge," I admitted.

"I like to think so," he responded dryly.

"And your grand plan this year?" I asked. He just shook his head.

"I don't really have one," he said. "I just meet with Professor Dumbledore about once a month and we go over some stuff."

"Tell me about it?" I asked. He was silent for a few moments.

"I don't think I should," he said quietly.

"Oh come on," I gasped. "I want to know!"

"Daphne," he sighed. But he didn't tell me. "Professor Dumbledore has these lessons with me in confidence. I'm not sure I should just go around and banter about what he says. At least let me ask him?"

"Oh," I said. His response annoyed me a little bit. But I suspect only because I was rather irritated that he wasn't just telling me. But I could understand where he was coming from. And I couldn't fault him for it. Of course, somehow, that just annoyed me even more.

"Enough about me, though," he said quietly. He shifted a bit, behind me, I'm not sure if he even noticed he was doing it. But I noticed. It was the characteristic shift of someone who was uncomfortable with the topic. I wasn't sure if that lent credence to his stories, or made them seem more like fiction. I also suspect it didn't matter because, well, I believed him.

"Fine," I sighed. "But what do you want to talk about, then?"

"You," he said and he kissed the top of my head again.

"What about me?" I sighed. It was my turn to shift uncomfortable. I suppose I shouldn't have thought it odd he didn't really want to talk about himself, as I didn't really want to talk about myself either.

"What did you do before Hogwarts?" he asked. "I always wondered what most Purebloods did before school."

"Went to school," I said dumbly.

"Really?" he laughed.

"Yes," I said. "It's not that uncommon. I went to a Muggle primary school. Some families hire a tutor or even a governess, but I think mine just wanted both Astoria and I out of the house."

"But when did you learn about magic, then?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I suppose I always knew. It wasn't like my parents were ever very shy about it."

"Isn't that against the Statute of Secrecy somehow?" He asked.

"Doing magic in your own home? I doubt it, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was in like article six hundred and two, section forty-five," I responded. "Anyway, they made it really clear that it wasn't something we could talk about with anyone else. I think that may have been the only time they were really mean, now that I think about it."

"How so?" he asked.

"Just stern," I sighed. "They just made it very clear that I couldn't talk about it." I frowned a little bit at that. I'd said, and thought, couldn't, and not shouldn't. Looking back I suspect that was the case in more ways than I knew.

"And when did you really find out you were a witch?" he asked.

"My grandfather's funeral," I said.

"I'm sorry," he responded immediately.

"It was like ten years ago," I frowned, there wasn't any reason to apologize for it.

"Well what happened?" he asked.

"I didn't quite understand what a funeral was at the time, or why I was wearing a black dress. I didn't really like black. I complained a lot about it to mom and she tried to explain but I didn't get it. So during the middle of the ceremony I made it pink." I explained. Thankfully, everyone there was magical. It had been a rather amusing event. Or at least I'm told. It made Harry chuckle.

"Cute," he laughed. "You still tend to lean toward the brighter colors."

"Not really," I sighed. "The uniform is so drab that anything else seems brighter when someone wears it. And I like pretty much every shade of green, blue, and violet. I'm not a big fan of yellow or orange."

"I'll make a note of that," he whispered. "What did your parents do then?" I assumed he meant after I'd color-changed my dress.

"Mom took me aside and explained what happened and why it was something we couldn't talk about. It made school a little harder at first. But, I got over it. I spent about a year trying to figure out magic. But it just didn't work," I sighed.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I suspect there's a reason why we go to magical school at eleven and not earlier. I think we're probably not quite developed enough to really learn until that point."

"I never thought about that," he admitted. "I kind of always assumed Pureblood families knew a lot more about magic when they got here. And had probably been working on it already."

"You obviously don't remember some of the catastrophes in first year," I teased.

"Hey, they could have just been trying to show off."

"Maybe." I said. "I think some families do have the tutor go over magical stuff with kids. But mine didn't. I guess they figured I could just wait until we got here."

"Do you think it worked out?" he sighed.

"I can't fault them," I admitted. "I certainly think it was more entertaining than sitting at home with a tutor."

"Probably," Harry admitted. "I hated primary school."

"I didn't mind it," I sighed contentedly, although the water was starting to cool a little bit. Of course, either of us could have fixed that fairly easily. But, we didn't. "I'd probably be more active if I was still in Muggle school. Gymnastics or dance or something."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I always liked stuff like that. Kind of wish Hogwarts had some more extra-curricular stuff."

"But little miss never-up-before-noon wants to be on a gymnastics team?" he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm fine with things in the afternoon. Mornings are just evil," I said with a practiced frown. Of course I didn't quite realize he couldn't see my facial expression.

"Dance would probably be more fun to watch than gymnastics," Harry commented. I shook my head.

"Why do boys always think that? Gymnastics is just as artistic as dance. And the girls are usually in less clothing," I argued. Potter just shrugged a little bit.

"Beats me. Dancing just seems more exotic, I guess," he said.

"I suppose," I responded with a little yawn. After a few moments I spoke up again. "The water is getting cold."

"Want me to warm it up?" he asked.

"No," I sighed and sat up a little bit in the tub, leaning myself off of him. "I'm getting all wrinkly. I think it's time to get out."

And he was smart enough to take the cue of me leaning off of him to slip himself up and get out of the tub first. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist as I stood up. He picked up another towel and turned to look at me as I stood. He smirked a little bit when he did.

"Bubbles," he almost giggled. But he wrapped the towel around my shoulders as I blushed. I just dried myself quickly and moved back toward the bedroom, he followed me.

I started to dig through the dresser, pulling out the bits I'd need to assemble a school uniform. I suppose I could have just transfigured the towel, but this was easier. When I turned to start getting dressed I noticed he was just sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Daphne?" he asked.

"Hmm?" I responded, shaking out a shirt and wondering where the bra I'd grabbed disappeared to.

"It's still kind of early," he said, glancing at a clock. I did too, and he was right, I should still be sleeping.

"That it is," I said, finding the bra.

"Want to come back to bed?" he asked quietly. I blinked and looked over at him. It was your idea to get out of bed you stupid lion.

"I'm kind of sore, Harry," I admitted, honestly. But I stopped trying to get dressed and just stared at him.

"Oh," he said, falling backward onto the bed, into the pile of messed up blankets. He somehow wormed his way under them and sighed a bit. "It's warm."

"I bet it is," I scoffed. But I felt warm, too. But warm in a different way. I sighed a little bit and stared at the bed.

"Very warm," he sighed. "We can just cuddle a bit." I stared at the mass of blankets and chewed on my bottom lip for a moment.

"Okay," I agreed, stepping toward the bed, knowing full well that we wouldn't just cuddle.

We spent a lot more time together over the next few weeks. I'm not sure if I expected that or not. Sometimes it was a little annoying. He'd show up to walk me to most of my classes. It was a nice gesture, I guess, but it felt a little forced.

But at the same time, whenever he showed up, whomever I was walking with, or talking to, or being around, would just disappear. It made conversing with Tracey and Millicent harder. Although Pansy would usually stay around. Except she was pretty much a shell and I'm not sure she even realized what was going on around her.

Even more annoying was that Granger and Weasley would usually show up shortly thereafter. Weasley didn't really change at all. He still made disparaging comments, except every now and again Harry would hit him when he did.

Granger was a bit more of an enigma. She'd be very very nice whenever Harry was around. Almost sickeningly nice. But then in like, runes, for example, she wouldn't look at me, talk to me, or even acknowledge my presence. Which, granted, I didn't mind. But it was pretty obvious what she was attempting to do.

Still, eventually, Harry seemed to get the idea that I didn't really need him to be following me around. Amazingly, I didn't have to yell at him, he just got it. And, eventually, he'd just leave me alone between classes if I was talking to my friends. Which I appreciated.

I had to admit, though, he was pretty good at picking up on my moods. Of course, I guess it wasn't that hard. When I was bitchy, it was best to leave me alone. When I had my arms crossed, don't talk to me. Otherwise, I like to think I was fairly easy to get along with.

Tracey and Millicent kept trying to get me to tell them everything that went on. While they continually said I should dump him, and not ever talk to him, and never do anything at all that could be associated with him, they were still interested in every single detail of his being.

Like how they'd ask pretty much every day if Harry Potter was bigger than Jason Williams. That question got very, very irritating.

I still didn't admit to doing anything with him. But it didn't matter. They talked about it like I'd been sleeping with him for months. I usually just got quiet during the conversations. Tracey would just tease me at that point. Usually with comments about how bad Potter must be if I didn't even want to talk about it. I suspect they were trying to goad me into defending him or something, and by extension, admitting that I'd done stuff with him. I didn't bite.

Of course, I didn't trust my potions brewing skills enough to brew up the contraceptive potion, and I knew I should do that pretty soon. I'd gone to Pomfrey for a dose after taking some in the room. I just didn't trust the room enough. I mean I had no reason to believe it wouldn't work. But I wasn't sure if I had much of a reason to believe it would.

Sure, I'd had all the same side effects that everyone always commented on. Changes in body temperature, headaches, and an increased libido. I suppose they weren't that painful of things to deal with. And I'm sure Potter didn't mind, even if he didn't know quite what I was taking.

Pomfrey had a standing policy that the first batch was free, no questions asked. But after that you had to learn how to brew it. She'd offer private lessons, if anyone wanted them, and be as discreet as possible with it. But I figured I could figure it out myself. I knew Pansy had done it pretty much monthly. She'd learned how to from her mother. Tracey had only bothered near the winter holiday, but she talked about it enough that I assumed she knew how to do it as well.

And it wasn't like Potter and I were bunnies or anything. Maybe only once or twice a week at best. Even if we'd sneak off to his room, half the time I'd just make him cuddle or be otherwise a bit of a pain. He didn't complain. And he really didn't try to coax me into anything.

Well, he didn't try to coax me into anything any harder than I'd have expected. It boiled down to sometimes, I'd let it happen, sometimes I wouldn't. I thought I was being more than fair. Of course, I didn't have much experience with being a lover, so I guess maybe I wasn't being fair. I don't know.

All I know is Potter didn't seem to mind. So that was good. The sore excuse was only legitimate for the first couple of times. I may have to come up with something new. Or I could just not have excuses. But I just didn't think I should make it that easy for him.

Either way, musing about sex would only accomplish so much. I was getting to the point where I thought I should probably start ordering him around a bit more. It could be fun to get more creative.

I shook my head a bit. Stupid potion. I couldn't help but wonder of the origins of the thing. Part of me suspected it was some chauvinistic creation that no one had bothered to look back at because it worked. Sure, don't get knocked up, but wind up thinking of sex more.

Although, part of me doubted it was just the potion doing that.

I gazed around the hallway, wondering exactly where I was and where I was supposed to be. I remembered I was walking with Potter. We weren't really going anywhere, just walking through the hallway. It was after Transfiguration. He was leading, but we weren't walking toward the seventh floor.

It was also the middle of the week. I was pretty sure he had quidditch practice that night. Of course he had quidditch practice most nights. Once or twice I went out to watch. It was warming up and I didn't mind being outside. I'd usually just sit in the stands and read. Some of the Gryffindor's didn't really appreciate my presence, but they didn't bother me. At least not much after the first night I showed up and Harry told them off when they commented.

It looked like we were heading somewhere on the third floor. I looked around, it wasn't a floor I spent a great deal of time on. There was an odd looking statue toward the end of the hallway. I don't remember ever noticing it before. But that wasn't uncommon. There was so much random clutter in the castle. I suppose I should call it decoration, not clutter, but regardless, it wasn't unusual to just notice something for the first time in your sixth year.

I knew there was a group of Ravenclaws that just intentionally wandered around the castle on weekends, looking in corridors and areas they didn't go often, to try to find out secrets of the dwelling. It would have probably been interesting to do once or twice, but I'm not sure I have the patience to do it every weekend.

"Where are we going?" I asked. I interrupted him from whatever he was talking about. But I wasn't paying enough attention to remember just what he was talking about.

"Just kind of wandering around," he smiled. But I could tell he was hiding something as a group of Hufflepuffs walked past us. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh sure," I laughed. "Well I want to wander that way." I nodded down a hallway in the opposite direction of what we were going.

"Okay," he said, walking right past the hallway and making no motion to even want to consider walking down it.

"I win," I laughed, shaking my head. "Now, where are we going?"

"You're done with classes for the day?" he asked. He knew the answer, I know he knew the answer. So he was just making inane conversation.

"Yes," I responded. He nodded a little bit.

"Me too," he said.

"I know," I teased. "Because I am perfectly able to remember your rather limited schedule. Something you seem completely unable to do with me. I even know when you have quidditch practice."

"Well aren't you just special?" he responded.

"Yes, I am," I commented. He laughed. We were near the end of the hallway by that point, approaching the strange looking statue. He walked over toward it, but as he did a cold voice rang out from the hallway.

"Potter," Theodore Nott said. I turned and looked at him. He and Draco Malfoy were walking down the hallway toward us. Draco looked tired and it looked like Theodore had dragged him out there. I looked around for Vincent and Gregory, they weren't usually far from Draco, but I didn't see them.

"Hi," Harry said, smiling a little bit. But he tensed. That was a little strange. I looked around, feeling a little confused.

"What are you doing here?" Theodore said.

"Walking through the hallway," he said. He was still smiling and his tone playful, but his eyes were focused on my two housemates. He tried to move in front of me a little bit, but I sidestepped away so I was still next to him. "I wasn't aware there was something wrong with that. It seems more normal than hanging out in a girl's bathroom."

"What?" Theodore asked, looking startled. Harry just shrugged.

"Ask Draco, it's been one of his favorite past times of late," Harry commented. Draco just stared at him.

"Shut up, Potter," Draco said. Harry sighed.

"I wasn't the one who started the conversation. I thought Purebloods were supposed to have manners. It's very rude to start talking to someone and then telling them to shut up. Tell me, Draco, how is Myrtle doing? I haven't spoken to her in a couple of years." Harry kept his tone very level and formal, and he was still smiling. But he was completely on guard.

"Shut up!" Draco pretty much yelled. I blinked a little bit. Myrtle? The only Myrtle I could think of was a ghost. And he had just said something about the bathroom. What the hell was Draco doing hanging out with a ghost?

"What?" Harry sighed. "She's a nice ghost. Although I'm not sure what the two of you would want to talk about, seeing as how she was killed by someone with pretty much your beliefs."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Theodore asked Draco.

"I have no idea," Draco said through his teeth. He was fibbing. I could tell, but I'm pretty sure Theodore couldn't. Of course, that just made me want to ask too. So I piped up.

"You're lying," I commented idly, looking at Draco. "You always furrow your brow and grit your teeth when you lie." It wasn't exactly true, but I doubted Draco would think about it hard enough to defend himself. And I was right, he didn't. Instead he just looked at Theodore.

"Just get on with it," Draco said. "I'm not sure why you even think she's worth the time." And their appearance was starting to make a little more sense. This was getting really annoying.

"I'm not going to date Theodore, no matter what you say or do. So take your geriatric father's marriage contract and shove it up your freaking ass." It was the best insult I could think of at the time. Now I was tense.

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Daphne. You can complain all you want, but it will happen. So accepting it will be easier. I'm sure I'll be better than your current excuse for a boyfriend," he said dryly. Harry tensed even more too at that and I spoke, out of reflex.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I said. Harry blinked and looked at me.

"What?" he said, looking confused.

"What?" Theodore said, also looking confused. But then Harry laughed a little and shook his head.

"Oh," he sighed. "I never asked."

"You never asked," I confirmed, but I was shaking my head too. Stupid reflexes making me blurt out things we all knew weren't true.

"I see," he said. "Hey Daphne?"

"Yes?" I asked, looking back at him. His green eyes were shining and he looked at me with a little bit of a smirk.

"Would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade for a late lunch?" he asked and I just smiled, shaking my head. I suppose some things just don't really need to be said.

"Okay," I agreed. And I suppose I was agreeing to far more than lunch. But oh well.

"You two aren't going anywhere," Theodore said. He was trying to be menacing, but he was so short and thin it was hard to take him too seriously.

"No no no," I said, shaking my head. "We're going to lunch. Or did you not just hear that conversation?" Teasing Theodore probably shouldn't have been as amusing as it was.

"No," Theodore responded. "You're not." And then things weren't joking anymore. The next thing I knew he had his wand out. Draco did too. And there was a shot of light coming straight at me. And then, before I even really realized it I was on my ass. But the spell hadn't hit me. Harry must have knocked me down. I blinked a little bit as he ducked away from a ball of red light. He slipped behind the statue to avoid it.

I fumbled for my wand, but I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with it. Theodore and Draco didn't really pay attention to me, they were too busy tossing spells at the statue. It resisted most of them.

My eyes shifted toward Potter. He looked completely calm. He looked around the statue and shot a few spells, mostly blindly, back at my housemates.

I stood up, mostly confused as a large orange curse I didn't recognize shot past me. I watched it with wide eyes. Why the hell were they fighting in the hallway? Did Theodore really think shooting spells at me was going to make me want him? That's a perverse thought.

"Daphne get down!" Harry shouted at me. I just turned and looked at him, holding my wand loosely in my hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled at pretty much everyone in the vicinity. I was amazed there weren't more students milling around witnessing the mayhem. But we were alone in the hallway.

"Get down!" Harry just yelled again, looking at me, somewhat alarmed. And then something ripped through my side.

"Oh," I gasped, looking down. A cutting curse, it looked like, as I looked at it. It just clipped me above the waist. It didn't hurt, that badly, but it was surprising. And I was bleeding and it was getting all over my skirt.

And then I blinked.

I was just hit with a cutting hex. I reached to my side and pressed a hand against it. That hurt more. It was starting to hurt more in general, I guess. I blinked again.

"Daphne!" Harry gasped. He made to move toward me but a couple of spells hit the statue and he retreated behind it. I heard Theodore yell again. Or maybe it was Draco. They were both yelling and shooting off spells. Something hit me square in the chest. It had to have been a bludgeoner of some type. It knocked me down pretty hard. I gasped as I hit the ground again. Someone laughed. It sounded like Theodore. I looked up toward them. I didn't even really know what to think. Draco was laughing, too. At least until he wasn't.

"Sectumsempra!" Potter yelled. And then Draco exploded in red. It was hideous. Blood flew everywhere He went down like a chunk of meat, for lack of a better description. Potter just stood there, staring at him, looking completely stunned. Theodore looked stunned as well, before he turned and ran. His footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. They were so loud. How had no one heard our little battle?

Was it a battle? I wasn't even sure. I felt too off. Everything was spinning. But I couldn't just lay there. Draco was knocked down too. His blood was cascading over the stone floors. So I did what I had to.

"What the fuck, Potter?" I yelled. I was hauling myself back to my feet. I was still bleeding and my chest felt terrible. Like broken terrible. But I didn't think someone could break their chest. So I wobbled my way over to Draco, as quickly as I could.

He was really a mess. I blinked a little bit. Blood was everywhere. I fell to my knees next to him, my hands were immediately wet. But not with water. He was gasping and struggling and I just stared. I could sense Harry was standing behind me. But he wasn't doing anything. I needed to do something.

"Sanare," I said, pointing my wand at him. Nothing happened. "Sanare! Sanare! Sanare! Sanare!" But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I gasped a little bit and switched tactics.

"Episky!" I gasped, but it did nothing as well. I tried again and again.

"Daphne," Harry gasped. I didn't turn to look at him. I tried to ignore the blood on my hands, and pooling around me. It wasn't easy. I could smell it. I wanted to not be there anymore. But Darco just kept sputtering and bleeding.

"Go get help!" I gasped, my wand still turned on Draco. "Tergeo!" I tried. But it just removed some of the blood and revealed the deep gash Potter's spell had caused. I didn't turn to see if he ran to get help. I just kept cycling through every healing spell I knew. It was a short list. None of them helped.

And then someone pushed me away from Draco. I fell backwards, thankfully not into the blood. But it took me a moment to stand. I was still bleeding from my side and breathing seemed harder than it should have been. But that could have just been from trying to cast as many spells as possible. And I could taste iron. That couldn't have been a good sign.

Professor Snape stood over Draco's body. Theodore stood a few feet behind him, still looking startled, his eyes very wide. Professor Snape waved his wand over Draco three times, muttering something I couldn't make out. The wounds closed and Draco's breathing stabilized.

"They attacked us," Theodore stammered. Professor Snape didn't spare us a glance.

"Ennervate," he said to Draco. The blond boy opened his eyes. Professor Snape helped him to his feet. Draco moved very, very gingerly.

"They attacked us," Theodore said again, stammering a bit this time. Harry was too stunned to say anything.

"Very violent, Potter," Snape said dryly, turning his gaze to Harry. I was having a hard time keeping my feet as I leaned against the wall.

"They attacked us," I stammered this time, gasping a bit. Snape hadn't even spared me a glance to that point. And he still didn't, instead he focused entirely on Potter.

"Quite, Miss Greengrass," he said. His gaze leveled on Harry. His tone was very stern when he spoke. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I, I," Harry just stammered.

"Where did you learn that spell?" Snape questioned.

"Theodore," I stammered. It wasn't what I wanted to say, but it was what came out. My chest was really starting to hurt. And my side felt like it was on fire. I should have healed that wound myself. I coughed once, twice, then a third time, gagging a bit on the iron taste as I did. And then there was more blood in my hand. "Oh."

"Miss Greengrass," Snape scolded. "You're already on thin ice here."

"Cursed me," I gasped. And I slid down the wall. Snape turned to look at me and his eyes widened. I must have looked worse than I thought. The last thing I remember was the former Potions Master moving toward me.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I do appreciate all of the support I receive. The best way to contact me is likely through PM on the site, I do try to respond to everything I receive there.

I haven't started 17 yet, so expect it to be a few weeks before anything shows up on that front.

As always, thanks again!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Chapter 17

The next thing I remember was thinking that surely my bed wasn't always this uncomfortable. And I didn't remember my sheets being that cold. And I'm pretty sure my bed had more blankets on it.

So I opened my eyes. It was very bright. It took me a few moments of blinking before my eyes adjusted.

"Daphne?" Someone asked from my side. The bed I was in didn't have enough pillows. My head was resting far too low on them. I liked to be propped up a bit more than that, if I was on my back. Which I usually wasn't when I went to sleep.

"Yessum?" I asked. I slid backward and sat up, leaning back against the frame of the bed. It was uncomfortable, but it worked, more or less.

"Are you okay?" the same voice asked. I looked over at it.

"My chest hurts," I admitted.

"I'm not surprised," another voice said. This voice was female. The nurse. She walked over and started examining me, waving her wand over my form carefully.

"Why does my chest hurt?" I asked. "And my side. There's a really sharp pain in my left side. Right here." I tapped myself through the blankets. The nurse nodded a little bit. One thing you learn fairly quickly with doctor parents is that it's typically the best course of action to just immediately describe what's wrong.

"Let me see it," Pomfrey said. I pushed the blankets back off of my body. I was dressed in a simple, mostly white, tank top with black cotton shorts on. I wasn't sure who changed me, but I assumed Pomfrey. Although I was a little disturbed that I needed to be changed. Most injuries could be treated without it.

Oh and I say mostly white because there was a large red spot forming on my left side, just under my ribs.

"Not again," Pomfrey groaned. She quickly grabbed the bottom of the tank top and pulled it up a few inches.

"What the-" I started but Pomfrey was ignoring me. She'd vanished the blood and examined the wound more closely.

"It opened again?" Harry Potter asked from the bedside. I turned to look at him. I'd completely spaced the fact that he was even there.

"Yes," Pomfrey said. "Smaller than the last time. Dittany." I looked back down at myself. The wound was bleeding pretty steadily. She had to vanish the blood once more as Potter handed her the dittany. It stung something fierce as she carefully applied drops of the icy, brown, liquid. I winced away from it on instinct. Pomfrey didn't comment. When I looked back down at the wound, it was simply a thin pink scar.

"Has that been happening a lot?" I asked. I reached out to run a finger over it gently.

"That's the fourth time," Harry said quietly. I sighed and shifted back against the bed again. It really wasn't a comfortable, but I felt like sitting up would probably do me some good.

"I'm not sure what spells you were hit with. But healing them hasn't been easy," Pomfrey said. "I think I've gotten all of the side effects from the bludgeoner. But the cutter just keeps reopening."

"Oh," I said. I was still looking down at myself. I pulled the tank top down a little and smoothed it out as best I could. I wanted to clean the blood off of the white garment but I didn't have my wand. Madame Pomfrey seemed to notice how I stared at it though, and with a flick of her wand the cotton top was entirely white again.

"Naturally Theodore and Draco are not talking. Professor Snape has them confined to their dormitory for the time being. But I can't get either of them to admit to any specific spells," Pomfrey continued. She sounded very annoyed, and I didn't blame her.

"Wands?" I asked. I figured it was best for the time being to limit my talking as much as possible. Or maybe I was just lazy.

"I haven't had the time to examine them. I'd like to, but I suspect nothing will come of it by the time Professor Snape is done with them," she scoffed.

"Why not?" Potter asked.

"You can only use the identification spell on a wand once. It clears out the wand. I suspect if I yell at Dumbledore I'll be able to get the information out of Professor Snape, but he is always very protective of his students. He believes all discipline should be kept in house," Pomfrey sighed.

"Clearly," Harry commented with a gesture to me.

"Anyway," Pomfrey said. "We need to find a way to make sure Daphne doesn't start bleeding again."

"Stitches maybe?" I suggested.

"The dittany is lasting longer and longer," Pomfrey said. "And the bleeding is less severe each time. So I'm not going to sew you up and pray that works."

"Oh, well, sometimes Muggle stuff can be effective against magic wounds," I said softly. Mostly I was just trying to sound intelligent. I'm not sure how well it worked, because Madame Pomfrey just shrugged a little bit.

"And sometimes they aren't," she claimed. "As is it doesn't appear your wound is reopening, so much as reappearing. I suspect stitching it shut would have absolutely no effect."

"I see," I said weakly.

"Now, I said I think I counteracted the effects of the bludgeoner. But it hit you in the chest. If you have any trouble breathing, let me know immediately. Your upper body appears to be okay. But let me know if anything feels more out of place than normal.

"Okay," I said meekly.

"I'm going to record a few things in the logs here. But when I'm done I'm going to do another diagnostic," Pomfrey explained. She turned and walked back toward her office. I found that odd. Surely she'd have to update the logs after the diagnostic, too, so why not get it out of the way? I turned to Potter to say something about it when I realized what the nurse was doing.

She just wanted to give the two of us some time. She didn't think my injuries were pressing enough that I was in any sort of serious danger. So she'd give us five to ten minutes, and that would likely make everything go a bit more smoothly for the rest of the evening.

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

"Three to four hours," Harry admitted. I nodded my understanding.

"What happened?" I asked. He frowned a little bit, looking at me.

"Well Malfoy and Nott attacked us in the hallway," he explained slowly. I think he was trying to choose his words very carefully. I have to admit, I was a little surprised that he was interested in being tactful when one of my housemates had put me into the hospital.

"I was conscious for that part," I said dryly.

"Well what do you remember?" he asked. His tone was a little bit annoyed, but he had a wry smile on his face.

"Professor Snape healing Draco," I said.

"Well after that he tried to pin everything on me. But when you collapsed against the wall he changed his tune a bit," Harry said. "I think mostly because you stammered something about how Theodore attacked you."

"So Snape healed me too?" I asked. I gazed around the hospital wing and noticed Draco was not in one of the beds.

"No. He transported you to the hospital wing and had Pomfrey do it. He took some dittany for Draco and left very quickly."

"Pomfrey was happy with that?" I asked. Harry shook his head.

"No, she fixed you up pretty quickly. She was more concerned with whatever hit you in the chest first. But once you seemed to be okay she started pretty much just yelling at me," he explained. He frowned a little bit at the memory.

"She yelled at you?" I asked.

"Yes," he sighed. "She seemed to think I was in some way responsible. Made some interesting comments about how it was enough that I managed to hurt myself all the time, and that I really didn't need to be hurting other students."

"But you didn't do anything," I said. I remembered the almost motherly way she'd looked at him earlier in the year. And how she'd asked about his shoulder and taken the time to tell him a story about his parents. I guess I could see how her disapproval could be something he'd prefer to avoid.

"I convinced her of that eventually. When she calmed down enough for me to explain what happened. But I'm not sure that made matters any better." He sighed a bit and leaned back in his chair.

"How so?" I asked. I winced a little bit as I shifted around on the bed. I was really uncomfortable and sore. I'd have to ask Pomfrey for something for the pain.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked immediately. I just nodded a little bit.

"Fine," I said. "It just hurts."

"Where?" he asked, looking at me. He looked a little alarmed. I just frowned.

"Pretty much everywhere above the waist," I responded quietly.

"Should I get the nurse?" he asked and he started to stand.

"No," I sighed. "I'm sure that she'll be back in a few moments. I'll ask her about it then. Now tell me what happened next." I frowned a little bit when I finished speaking. It was harder to talk than it probably should have been. But I seemed to be capable of breathing without any additional discomfort.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still doing his best to look concerned.

"Yes," I said. He looked at me for a few more moments before his gaze slipped toward the nurse's office. But he sat back down and frowned a little.

"Well, when she finished berating me I explained what happened. How we were just walking down the hallway with no real direction in mind when we ran into Theodore and Draco. I told her that some banter ensued and the next thing I knew spells were flying."

"And she accepted that?" I asked.

"Not really," he responded. "But she at least let me continue. So I told her what happened. It was pretty simple. I ducked behind a statue and you got hit by a cutter. I fired some spells. Then a few moments later you got hit by something bigger. And you fell down. So I came out from behind the statue and cast a spell on Draco I'd read in the margin of a used book I have. I didn't quite realize what it would do." He let his voice trail off and he looked away from me.

"What spell was that, anyway?" I asked.

"Sectumsempra," he said, but judging from his voice he wasn't sure of any other information than that.

"And it was in a book?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Scribbled in the margin of the potions text I have this year. There's stuff like that all over it. It's the first one that's been dangerous. Although it did say 'for enemies' on it. I just didn't think it would be that dangerous," he frowned a little bit. He looked like using that spell was eating him up a bit. I decided to not press the issue.

"Well Pomfrey believed you then?" I asked.

"I guess," he said. I told her you tried to heal Malfoy but couldn't. And that Nott ran off and came back with Snape. And that Snape healed Draco and then brought you here. He left after taking some dittany. Madame Pomfrey saw him pull Malfoy and Nott out of the hospital as she came out to treat you."

"I see," I sighed a little bit. I wasn't really sure what to say. I just sighed a bit and wished I could get something for the pain.

"I'm sorry, Daphne," he said. I just looked at him.

"For what?" I asked.

"Well, you know, you are just kind of laying in the hospital wing-" he started, but I interrupted him.

"Because two of my housemates are idiots," I said.

"But if you weren't with me this wouldn't have happened," he sighed.

"Stop being a bitch," I said. He blinked a little bit and looked at me.

"What?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Something would have happened anyway. Theodore is operating under the assumption that he has some sort of claim on me. Despite the fact that I have absolutely no interest in him what-so-ever. Not everything is about you, you know." I groaned a little bit as I finished speaking. Talking a lot hurt.

"Sorry," he muttered a bit and I rolled my eyes.

"And talking hurts. So just give me a kiss and tell me I'm going to be okay and then go get the nurse," I ordered.

"I, uhm, okay," he said. And he leaned over the bed and gave me a light peck on the lips. He lifted his lips from mine about the same time that the door to the nurse's office opened once again.

"Professor Snape and Misters Malfoy and Nott will be down here shortly," she announced as she stepped into the room.

"Why?" I asked.

"To discuss what happened and appropriate punishment," Pomfrey explained.

"I cursed Malfoy," Harry admitted. Pomfrey nodded.

"You did. But if your story is true, which I have no reason to believe it isn't, then you were acting in self-defense. And as such your punishment will be lessened," Pomfrey commented.

"I want to floo my father," I said, interrupting both of them.

"I think we should probably wait on that," Pomfrey responded.

"Why?" I asked with a frown. "He'll want to know I was cursed. And he may know something about how to heal my cut better." Pomfrey just glared at me a little bit. I hadn't meant for that to sound like I didn't trust the nurse's healing abilities.

"I'm sure he would want to know, but these matters are best left internal until punishments are decided," she commented. "Afterwards, you can use my fire."

"Okay," I sighed. I didn't like the word punishment. Part of me expected I'd wind up in detention for the rest of the semester, a fate that would make me think twice before flooing my father. Of course, I was the one struggling with breathing and a cut wound that apparently kept reappearing. You'd think either of those would keep me out of detention. But I was smart enough to know that Professors typically punished everyone associated with these types of incidents.

And then we were silent for a few moments. There didn't really seem to be anything to say. So I examined my side once more. The cut hadn't reopened. Part of me wondered if I could ask to actually get dressed. The uniform would have been better than the shorts and tank top. Especially considering it was getting chilly in the hospital.

The heavy oak doors banging open brought me back to reality. Professor Snape walked in with Theodore and Draco close behind. The former potions-master walked right up to where Potter and I were and then pushed Draco into the bed next to mine.

"You can examine him," he said, curtly, to Pomfrey. The nurse just crossed her arms and looked at him appraisingly.

"Looks fine to me," she said dryly.

"What?" Draco asked. I could see a bit of a pink scar emerging up his neck, and he looked very pale, but did look otherwise alright. "You didn't even do anything!"

"If Professor Snape deems his care better than my own, who am I to judge?" she asked. "I'm sure he mended all your injuries."

"But it still hurts," Draco whined. Potter snickered a little bit next to me. I suspect he was trying to not feel proud of that. I winced a bit, though, because his comments about how it hurt reminded me that my entire chest hurt. Pomfrey sighed and walked toward the cabinet where she kept all sorts of potions. She took a small one out and walked toward us. But instead of giving it to Draco, she handed it to me.

Naturally, I wolfed it down as quickly as humanly possible. It's pretty amazing I didn't gag on the liquid. A cooling numbness spread through my chest and I let out a contented sigh. I handed the empty cup to Potter, who placed it on the bedside table. Draco glared at me and let out a rather plaintiff whimper.

"I'm sure it does," Pomfrey said, stiffly. "Magical injuries tend to linger. They can be very painful for a few days."

"Obviously the boy must be punished," Snape said. His eyes narrowed as his gaze focused on the nurse, then me, and then finally, Potter. I had the strangest feeling that the professor found me inconvenient. Like he needed to figure out a way to work around the fact that I was lying in a hospital bed.

"Obviously," Madame Pomfrey explained. But her gaze shifted between Theodore and Draco and I suddenly had a great deal more respect for the nurse. I also took the time to look at my two housemates.

Draco looked really worn out. While his eyes were open, they were clearly pained. And he barely looked conscious. I couldn't help but frown a little bit at him. What had happened to the charismatic, albeit annoying, Draco? This had been going on all year. I couldn't help but feel bad for him.

I guess it didn't help that I couldn't stop picturing him lying in a pool of his own blood on the corridor floor. I'd vanished some of it and had seen just how large that cut was. I wondered if that scar would ever fully heal.

Of course, thinking about scars made me a little self-reflective. And I just had to wonder if the scar on my stomach and side would ever heal, or if at sixteen I'd be cursed to forever look like I had a freaking c-section.

I may have been overly dramatic. After all, I was closer to seventeen now.

So I looked away from Draco. But, that just made me look at Theodore. And I wasn't that happy to find out that that he was just staring at me. Well, a part of me, anyway. I was going to hex whoever had the idea for the tank top.

I mean, if I'm honest, I really don't mind when boys look at me. It amuses me, in an odd sort of way. I like knowing people think I'm attractive. It entertains me more than it probably should. But still, that didn't mean I wanted Theodore staring at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and attempted to cover myself.

"So Potter will spend two evenings a week and his weekends in detention with me. Miss Greengrass will spend two alternating evenings with me in detention as well," Professor Snape said curtly. I opened my mouth to argue.

"I think not, Severus," she said calmly. My head of house turned his glare onto her.

"This boy attacked Draco Malfoy," he growled with a nod toward Potter.

"He did," Pomfrey admitted. "But as you simply dropped him here and rushed off with those two, I suspect your entire view of the incident comes from these two."

"Potter still attempted to murder one of my students," Snape countered. He looked a little surprised that the nurse was arguing at him. Of course he was probably just pissed that he couldn't just take points and toss her in detention.

"Yes, but we do, at the very least, have to account for the context," Pomfrey said.

"Your context simply comes from these two," Snape shot right back. "If you claim that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott are presenting me with a biased opinion of the events, then surely Mr. Potter and Miss Greengrass are doing the same for you."

"Oh I never dreamed of just asking for two opinions," Pomfrey smiled. She'd really only asked for one. She hadn't bothered asking me what happened. Of course, I'd have probably just said something along the lines of 'whatever Potter said' because I still wasn't really sure. My memory was all a blur. And Harry just wasn't a liar. No matter how often people tried to say it, that just didn't make it true.

Pomfrey walked over toward her potions cabinet again. She took out a similar looking cup to the one I'd just had a few moments before and walked back to the still whimpering Draco. Looked down at him and spoke.

"So what happened earlier today?" she asked, her tone incredibly sweet and motherly.

"Theodore and I were walking from class and Potter attacked us," Draco said quietly. He didn't look at the nurse when he spoke. He didn't even look at the potion she was holding.

"I see," she said quietly. She just put the potion down on the bedside table. It took Draco all of three seconds to grab it and drink it. Pomfrey ignored him and turned her gaze to Theodore. "And what happened, Mr. Nott?"

"Uhm, what Draco said," Theodore said quietly. I didn't turn to look at him, mostly because I didn't want to see if he was still looking at me.

"And I can only assume Mr. Potter's story is the exact opposite," Snape responded dryly.

"Quite right," Pomfrey said. "Potter does admit, though, to cursing Mr. Malfoy and attempting to curse Mr. Nott."

"So the boy admits his own guilt and you are defending him?" Snape even raised his voice with those comments, something he didn't do very often.

"I am not defending him," Pomfrey responded curtly. "Merely trying to figure out exactly what happened before we pass judgment."

"But their stories are conflicting," Snape said.

"Correct. But you are also not accounting for one of your own students, who just happened to be accompanying Mr. Potter. As of right now she appears to have the severest injuries of any of the four involved," Draco made an annoying whimpering sound and reached for his chest.

"That's absurd," Snape commented. "Potter attacked Mr. Malfoy with a very powerful, and very dark curse." Snape turned his glare back onto Potter, but Harry just ignored him.

"Miss Greengrass, was attacked with two very powerful, and very dark curses," Pomfrey responded. I blinked a bit at her comment. Did I look that terrible? Of course, I was starting to feel a little light headed, so I looked down and noticed I was bleeding again. I cursed but Harry reached for his wand, a motion that caused both Snape and Nott to draw theirs, which Harry ignored, and cleaned the blood away before applying more dittany.

"Well we know Potter threw one dark curse. It is only logical he could have thrown two," Snape countered.

"Sound logic," Pomfrey admitted. She reached into her pocket and took something out. "But Potter volunteered this. Oh and a scan of his wand showed that while he did cast the dark spell in question. The only other spells he used before it were all stunners, and then what I was informed was their transfiguration assignment today. So yes, Mr. Potter did cast _one_ dark curse. Miss Greengrass was hit by _two_, and Mr. Malfoy _one_. That means two are still unaccounted for." And she held a small vial with a vaguely familiar looking silver liquid in it.

"You don't have the means to view that here," Snape said dryly.

"I don't, but I could always ask Professor Dumbledore to view it and then act as an arbitrator."

"Memories are easily altered."

"Not by sixteen year old Wizards. At least not without it being very obvious," Pomfrey sighed. "And I'm sure one of the other boys will be more than willing to offer his own to support his own cause." Draco shifted very uncomfortably on the bed. Theodore finally stopped looking at me and instead just looked at the ground.

"So you want to just absolve Potter of all the blame? He almost killed Mr. Malfoy," Snape's voice had reverted to the quiet anger it always held.

"Absolve? Of course not. He accepted what he did. As his punishment Gryffindor will lose fifty points and he will be required to serve detention, here in the hospital wing three days a week from four until ten. I suspect witnessing the effects of ill-timed spells and magical injuries will do more to dissuade him than whatever lines you would have him write," she said it sweetly. But there was certainly an undertone to her words. I almost think she wanted Snape to challenge her. "And I think Professor Dumbledore would agree with me. I am also very short on apprentices this year. So I could really use more hands around the hospital."

"Acceptable," Snape narrowed his eyes to look at the nurse. I don't think he actually thought it was acceptable. But it was certainly a fairly harsh punishment. "As for-"

"As for Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott. There is precedence for this situation, as Minerva told when I floo'd her to inform her of Mr. Potter's condition."

"This situation?" Snape asked, emphasizing the second word.

"When students attack housemates in very violent ways. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and I came up with their punishment based on past cases," Pomfrey explained.

"Professor Dumbledore will not approve of it," Snape frowned.

"We think we will. Anyway, Mr. Malfoy is stripped of his prefect duties and loses fifty points for Slytherin. He will also serve detentions in the hospital wing on one week night from four to ten, and on the weekends from eight to four.

"Mr. Nott will also lose fifty points for Slytherin and will also serve one night a week and weekends in the hospital." Pomfrey finished, looking between both Slytherin boys. I frowned a bit, their punishments didn't sound any more server than Potter's. I'd have thought for instigating the fight they may have been.

"Very well," Professor Snape said. I suspect they'd have had an easier time in detention with him. But he couldn't argue with making them work in the hospital.

"Oh, and since it's clear they attacked Miss Greengrass, who is required to spend time in relatively close proximity to them. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott will be confined to their classes and Dormitory. Prefects will escort them to class, meals, and the hospital for the remainder of the term. Violating this will be grounds for expulsion."

"That's preposterous!" Snape said.

"You can't do that!" Draco gasped.

"That's precedent for attacking a housemate," Madame Pomfrey said. "Typically it is imposed for one calendar year. We decided in this case that the remainder of term was a better option."

"Professor Dumbledore will hear about this," Snape said.

"Minerva was going to floo him this evening," Pomfrey smiled. Snape just rounded hard on his heel and marched out of the hospital wing.

"I can't be confined to the dormitory," Draco said quietly. He looked shocked and was just staring across the hospital at nothing in particular. Theodore didn't say anything. He was always quiet. But I suspected he was just thinking of exactly whatever to tell his father.

"You may wait in the hallway, Theodore," Madame Pomfrey said. He looked a little startled when she spoke. "Miss Patil will be here to escort you to the Slytherin common room momentarily."

"What about me?" Draco said as Theodore ducked out of the hospital wing. I watched as he waited in the doorway. At least he was smart enough to not disappear from the nurse's sight immediately. A few minutes later the Ravenclaw showed up and led him off.

"You are spending the night so I can examine you," Pomfrey said. Draco just looked at Harry.

"I don't want to be here with him," he said. "He attacked me." I suppose that actually was a good point. Of course on the flip side I didn't want to be there with Draco, either.

"I don't want to be here with him," I mimed, attempting to sound as pathetic as I could. "He attacked me."

"Oh very well," Pomfrey sighed. She walked over toward Harry and handed him two small jars. They looked sort of like the little canisters that some hair-care products were usually stored in. "Mr. Potter, take Miss Greengrass back to her common room. Take the dittany and these. Miss Greengrass if you would please come back tomorrow morning and tell me how many more times the wound opens during the night."

"Okay," I said quietly as I slipped out of the bed. I frowned a little bit at the shorts and tank top. The top was stained again, from the last time it bled. Pomfrey cleaned it again with a flick of her wand, and then with another conjured a basic schools skirt and sweater. I pulled them on quickly. After I dressed I asked the question that had been bothering me for the last couple of minutes.

"What about me? Am I going to be punished?"

"Why would you be, my dear?" the nurse asked.

"Well I was there," I sighed.

"You were caught in the crossfire. It seems you were already punished for being in the wrong place at the wrong time," the nurse explained. She paused for a moment before continuing. "In fact, twenty five points to Slytherin for your actions."

"Twenty-Five?" I gasped. I wasn't sure I'd done anything worthy of gaining points, much less more than I'd ever been awarded at one time.

"I looked at your wand," she gestured to the bedside table where it rested. I picked it up and pocketed it quickly. "That's one point for each spell you cast trying to heal Mr. Malfoy. Keeping your cool in a situation like that is something to be proud of and reward."

"Thanks," I stammered. I didn't really know what else to say. Harry came up and stood next to me, sliding an arm gently around me and holding me up against him. Draco glared at us.

"I know you don't like the medical field," Pomfrey continued. "But you really are your parents' daughter. They'd be proud of you." I just blushed at her praise.

"And she didn't even puke once," Harry said cheerfully. The nurse laughed more than I did.

Potter just led me away from the hospital that evening. He didn't really say anything, and he also made no motion to lead me to the Slytherin common room. He led me very slowly back up to his room.

I'd completely forgotten about flooing my father. But, for the moment, that just didn't seem relevant. I didn't think there was really anything I could tell him that just wouldn't have made him angry. Maybe in the morning I'd give it more thought, but for now I just wanted to go to sleep.

It took me longer to walk up the flights of stairs than I was accustomed to, but Potter didn't comment. He just waited patiently at each flight. At first I was annoyed he didn't ask if I was okay. But I also knew I'd have been annoyed with him had he asked how I was doing after every flight. So I suppose Potter was learning, at least.

When we got there I changed into pajamas. I took a few moments to examine my stomach a bit more. Vain, I know, but it was at the forefront of my mind at the moment. Thankfully, it hadn't reopened during the walk. I think that was probably a good sign.

"Doing okay?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I guess," I said quietly.

"Pomfrey gave me this," he said. "She said that it will do more for the pain than the potion." He held up a small canister. He opened it to reveal a gel-like substance. I didn't recognize it.

"Put it on?" I asked, holding my tank top up above my stomach.

"Where?" he asked, glopping some of it onto his hands and gazing over me.

"Well my entire upper body hurts," I frowned as I spoke. Mostly because I realized what I was giving him permission to do if he so wished.

Of course, it wasn't like Potter to do what he wished.

Instead he just, very slowly, and very silently, spread the goop over the scar, and then slowly around the lower part of my stomach. Whatever he was using was very cold. I shivered a little bit, he didn't comment. Almost immediately the pain dissolved. It was nice. Very nice. I could almost feel the magical substance absorbing into my skin. There didn't seem to be anything left over on my skin, which was a nice touch.

I just sighed contentedly. There may have been a little more pleasure in my tone than there should have been because Potter snickered a little bit. I ignored him.

"Is it working?" he asked after a few moments. I just nodded.

"Uh-huh," I sighed. "Save some for the next time you get nailed by a bludger."

"Maybe I will," he laughed. "You said your entire upper body hurt?"

"Uh-huh," I said. He just nodded and started on my shoulders and back. I closed my eyes and let him. He started with the areas that were uncovered, before sliding his hands up the back of my tank top.

At some point he stopped. I don't really know when because after not too long I just sort of leaned against him and zoned out. I don't think I fell asleep on my feet, but it wouldn't have surprised me. Suddenly I was just really, really tired.

"Do you want to bathe?" he asked after a few moments. I didn't quite hear him and it took my brain a moment to process just what he said. Of course, it didn't take it a moment to decide to respond.

"Huh?" I asked. Although I'm not sure if it can be constituted as asking if you don't actually form a word.

"You always like baths," he said quietly, as if he didn't want to impose. "I thought one may make you feel better."

"Mmm," I said. Well, again, as much as someone can say something without actually forming a word.

"So that's a yes?"

"No," I said quietly. "I think I'm just going to bed."

"Pomfrey said you'd be tired," he sighed.

"Well she was right," I sighed.

"Want me to find you some pajamas?" he asked.

"The room always puts some in the top drawer for me," I sighed, nodding toward the dresser in the corner of the room. He moved toward it and gathered up some clothing. I just collapsed onto the bed, face first, wincing a bit when my chest hit it. While it didn't hurt as I just stood around, pressure brought the pain back, although only for a moment. I rolled onto my back around the same time Potter walked to the bed. He put some clothing on the end of it. I sat up and picked up the shirt and laughed.

"Really?" I asked. I held up a soft cotton Tutshill Tornadoes shirt. He looked at it then laughed a little bit.

"Hey it was in the drawer!" He defended himself. "I didn't really look at what I grabbed!" I just shook my head, but smiled, and changed before crawling under the covers.

"Are you going to join me?" I yawned. He pressed his lips together and looked a little confused.

"I'm not really tired," he said. I nodded a little bit and curled up into the blankets. He just sighed.

"Do you mind if I do some reading?" he asked.

"Not at all," I said. And he crawled into the bed next to me. I rolled over toward his side, but really just fell asleep in moments.

Things didn't really change as the term advanced. At first, I spent a great deal less time with Potter outside of class. But that was mostly because he was either playing quidditch, or serving his detentions.

On the positive side, it gave me more time for homework and I spent a great deal less time worrying about whether or not my own birth control potion actually worked. Of course, I'm not sure if that second one is better classified as a positive or a negative.

My friends were strange at first. Millicent was just angry with me at the punishment levied on both Slytherin and Theodore. She blamed me. I think Tracey probably did too. On some sort of level.

Pansy was fairly indifferent. Because, well, with Draco confined to his dormitory he rather suddenly had the time of day for her again. There was something infinitely wrong with that but I didn't really want to analyze it too hard. It almost made me feel bad for Theodore.

They didn't really talk much to me. At least not unless I initiated the conversation. And even then it was sporadic at best. I'd never been the most talkative of girls, so it really didn't bother me as much as it probably should have. But there was still something about it that irritated me.

Of course, it also prevented any more comments about Potter, which was pleasant enough. And Tracey didn't spend half the evenings trying to pester me into talking about which position I liked the best.

But surprisingly, Astoria saved me from all of that.

I know, right?

It was just one simple weeknight, perhaps three weeks after the incident in the hallway, when I was sitting in the common room. I was just working on some Muggle Studies reading. We were on to _On The Road_ and I liked it just about as much as I liked Atlas. But that was a different story.

I hadn't even noticed when Draco and Theodore wandered into the common room from their dormitory. They'd moved to a couch in the corner and sat on either side of Pansy, who let out a squeal of delight as they sat down next to her.

I swallowed hard and stared at them. The two boys didn't look at me. But I could tell they were doing their best to avoid it. I immediately felt sick. I knew it was silly. Whatever stupid plan they had come up with had to have ended in the hallway, right?

Well, part of me just couldn't get that into my head. I started hyperventilating a little bit. I knew I was way more freaked out than I should have been, but I just couldn't bring myself to calm down. I held the book over my face so that none of my housemates could see.

I knew I had to get out of the common room. But I'd have had to walk past them to get to the girls dormitory. And Potter was working in the hospital wing. I could have faked an illness of some sort, I guess. But that thought didn't come to me quickly enough.

But then Astoria and her friend Eve walked in to the common room. They must have been in class, or the library, as they had their bags slung over their shoulder and looked fairly exhausted.

I hadn't talked with my sister much in the previous weeks. I know that sounds terrible, but it happens. I mean it's not like we have any of the same classes or anything. Half the time she wanted to talk to me it was only so I'd do her homework for him. Which I usually did. So that was probably part of the reason I avoided talking to her as much as possible.

Lately, though, I think it was turning out to be closer to the other way around. Blaise had lost interest in her. I hated to think about the reason why. I could only hope she hadn't done something stupid. But I thought it was better to not pry.

But anyway, she walks into the common room and I can tell she's also not really paying attention to anything. She has the same look on her face that I get in that situation. Her friend was talking to her, but I doubt she was really listening.

But after like two minutes she sees Draco and Theodore and she just goes off. I've never heard her yell like that. I'd certainly never seen her that angry. I'm not even sure I could physically bring myself to actually repeat most of what she said.

And I certainly wasn't the only one shocked. Two first years scampered to the other side of the common room. At least one second year ducked into his dormitory. Blaise bolted out into the hallway, likely hoping that when they sung of the Rage of Astoria he wasn't mentioned.

The seventh year prefects looked like they wanted to stop her. But neither made a motion to move. One of the fifth years took a step toward her, but was held back by one of her friends. I was as shocked as the rest of my housemates. Really, only Tracey managed to look on and seem amused.

Astoria just kept yelling. At some point she took out her wand and threatened spells. Still, the prefects didn't intervene. And when Draco and Theodore realized that help wasn't coming from anyone in a position of power they did just about the only thing they were capable of doing in that situation.

They got off the couch and fled back to their dormitory. She followed them the entire way, yelling the whole time. Once their door closed with an unnecessarily loud bang Astoria walked back into the common room proper, muttering something under her breath about people attacking her sister.

There were a few moments of silence, during which I felt much more like younger sister than the elder. But after those few moments everyone just started laughing. It was probably one of the most unified things I'd seen in the Slytheirn common room in years. What can I say? Astoria had a way with making people like her.

But after the laughter the usual din of an evening in the common room resumed. Some people took to joking about the insults that Astoria just hurled at two of their house-mates. Other just went back about their business as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened. I was in the second group. Although the Kerouac didn't appeal to me any more than it had previously. Mostly I just stared at the same page for a few moments until Tracey came over to tease me.

She made some comments I don't really remember much about how it was obvious which member of our family was the firecracker. And that Astoria would be so much more amusing in private than I could ever dream of being.

I rolled my eyes and ignored her comments as best I could. I almost made a comment about how Potter didn't seem to mind how, erm, active, I could be at night. But I bit my tongue on it. I still hadn't really admitted to my friends that I'd slept with him, and I didn't want to be tricked into it.

But Tracey's annoying comments only lasted until Astoria wandered over and sat down next to me. She just smiled sweetly and then, with a little smirk, asked if I could give her a hand with her transfiguration homework.

Naturally, I said yes.

And that's how things continued. Potter was fairly amused when I told him about it. He expressed interest in meeting Astoria, but I wasn't sure that was an overly good idea. I hadn't really introduced him to any of my friends. Granted, that hadn't stopped him from walking up to both Tracey and Millicent when we were talking and introducing himself with a smile.

It didn't help. They still thought he was a dick.

But Astoria was a different story all together. With her always going on about how attractive he was I knew that, at the very least, she would approve of him. I just wasn't sure how much I wanted my sister hanging off of him.

I suppose if she asked I'd probably introduce the two of them. But she hadn't asked, at least not directly, and so I wasn't going there.

I mean I already was planning on inviting him over at some point during the summer. So I suppose I'd have to introduce him to her and the rest of my family at that point. Of course, I could already just tell that mom and dad would love him. Well, as long as he didn't let slip what we did in our free time.

But we did find some ways of spending time together. I remembered Pomfrey going on about how they could use an extra hand in the hospital, so on the nights that Harry had detention I volunteered.

The nurse let us do pretty much whatever we wanted for most of the shift. But every time she'd make sure she spent some time going over healing spells with Harry, or making sure he could treat a patient, or anything of that nature.

During these lessons Pomfrey typically dispatched me to either make some sort of massive quantity of a potion that didn't require much supervision, or she'd put me on standard Hospital duty and I'd sit around and wait for anyone to show up and need some sort of help. Very rarely did anyone.

I assumed that was pretty typical of the end of term, as most of the students either spent a lot of time studying, or a lot of time outside enjoying the weather. And having to go to the hospital would just ruin time that could be spent doing something far more fun.

I even discovered that Pomfrey kept up on all the modern medical journals. When she caught me reading another newer issue of a journal mom wrote for, she immediately started talking to me about the concepts in it. They were very interesting conversations, and certainly helped me understand a bit more what my mother was attempting. Pomfrey was passive on my mom's research, but I suspect that was because she didn't want to color my opinion.

Potter also seemed pretty indifferent on it too, which annoyed me a little for reasons I couldn't really explain. But he didn't make any comments, so I didn't either. It seemed cleaner.

I was starting to see the appeal of medicine too. Granted I still shied away from blood, vomit, and pretty much everything associated with sickness or injury, but healing people did make you feel better. I could see why it was something both my parents were interested in, even if it wasn't something for me.

Pomfrey did seem to appreciate the help, too. Even if she didn't make us do a whole lot of work.

It was one of those days, as the semester wound down, that I wandered in to the hospital wing, later than I was supposed to be there, but the best part about volunteering is that you aren't typically held to an overly strict schedule.

"Have fun tanning?" Harry teased as I walked in. I just shook my head.

"Didn't go," I sighed. I wouldn't admit it, but the scar on my stomach and side still hadn't faded, and I didn't like people seeing it. So it kind of killed my incentive to wear the swimwear I'd brought and lounge around the lake.

"Oh," Harry said, with a frown. I think he probably knew my reasons for not going, as he'd seen me frowning at the scar in the mirror on multiple occasions. But, he didn't say anything about it. "What did you kill your afternoon with, then?"

"Finished my runes project," I said.

"It worked out?" he asked. I'd bounced a few ideas off of him. He was fairly good at just listening and helping out, even if he didn't know the subject.

"Flawlessly," I said. It surprised me how well it worked out, actually, but I wasn't going to admit that. He had to think I was amazing at runes! I don't care if whatever Granger did was considerably harder. I was proud of my project.

"Well, I'm glad," he smiled at me. The hospital wing was empty and I just sat on the bed he was standing next to.

"Where's Pomfrey?" I asked.

"Staff meeting," he said. I blinked a little. It was the first time she'd left us alone in the hospital wing. I suspect that was a good thing and meant she trusted us.

"Oh," I said, gazing around. "Did she leave instructions or anything?"

"No," he responded. "But there is something I want to talk to you about."

"What's that?" I asked. I probably wasn't paying as much attention to him as I should have been. Instead I was just looking around the hospital wing and thinking of what we could do to both kill time and impress the nurse.

"Lord Voldemort," he replied quietly. "And Horcruxes."

"What you were working with the Headmaster about?" I asked, remembering the excuse he'd given me for why he needed the memory from Professor Slughorn.

"Exactly," he said. I just pressed my lips together. It didn't seem like a topic that Harry was really overly enthused about talking about. I couldn't even tell how much I should pester him about it.

"Well, what's up?" I asked.

"Voldemort wants to kill me," Harry sighed. He looked away as he spoke. "He considers me being a live a failure on his part, that he wishes to correct as quickly as possible."

"I see," I said quietly. That didn't seem to sound like the best of logic if you asked me. But megalomaniacs were never the most logical.

"So Dumbledore has been training me to defend myself against him. If I ever have to," Harry frowned. "Which he seems to think is likely."

"I see. And the horcruxes are something defensive?"

"No," Harry frowned. "A horcrux is something that stores a segment of your soul in it. Voldemort has seven. Well, he made seven, we think. A few have been destroyed. He can't be killed until they're all destroyed."

"Split his soul?" I gasped. That didn't sound like something you'd be particularly keen on doing.

"Yes," he said.

"That's so wrong," I commented.

"Yes," he said again. After a moment, I just frowned.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"I think you deserve to know. And I trust you," he admitted. "And you helped me get the memory so, like you said, you deserve to know what's in it."

"I don't know," I frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Daphne," he said quietly. "I need you with me on this. Please just promise you won't tell anyone."

"I won't," I said. Although I wanted to ask my parents about horcruxes. They'd slipped my mind after our first brief conversation of them and they had not made it into any of my letters home. I wondered if they could even provide any knowledge.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't want to put you in any danger, Daphne. Being around me may not be the safest thing in the world."

"Oh I don't know," I teased. I know, I shouldn't have had the whole light, flirty tone going on. But it was how I was! "No one has attacked you in the hallway because you won't marry them. I think I'm dangerous to be around, too."

"I guess," he said with a little, almost pained, smile. "But I really don't know if we-"

"Why would you want to split your soul?" I asked, interrupting him. He just tilted his head and looked at me.

"Well, from what I've gathered, you can't die unless your entire soul is destroyed. Splitting it means you can come back if your body is destroyed. Like Voldemort did in our fourth year," he answered my question before trying to return to his topic. "But Daphne, I really think that-"

"But that can't be a life," I interrupted again and shook my head. "Anyway. I can't imagine you're going to be ambushed at school. But let me know if I can do anything to help. I'm pretty good at research and what not." He just shook his head and looked at me.

"I don't think we should be together," he blurted out. I looked at him and then crossed my arms over my chest.

"Am I no longer fun?" I asked sternly.

"No no no," he stammered. "I love spending time with you! But I don't want to put you in danger."

"Do you not think I'm attractive?" I asked.

"No, you're very pretty!" he stammered again. I cut him off before he could say anything else.

"Do you not enjoy having sex with me?"

"Daphne!" he blushed.

"That's what I thought," I said with a playful frown. "I mean come on. I slept with the freakin' chosen one and I didn't even get a t-shirt. You don't just get to run off on me without a very good reason."

"I don't have a good reason?" he asked.

"No, you don't," I responded.

"But I could be putting you and your family in danger!"

"I don't feel like I'm in danger," I said with a cheeky smile. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm not going away. So deal with it."

"Daphne," he sighed.

"Deal. With. It." I responded. "I didn't get dragged down to bury a freaking spider, or get cursed in a hallway, just to have you decide I don't warrant being involved in your problems."

"But I don't know what to do," Harry sighed, looking a little helpless.

"I wouldn't expect you to know what to do," I said. "But I don't expect to be pushed away. If I can help, tell me how to help. Even if it's just going down on you to make you feel better!"

"Is that an option?" he blushed. I rolled my eyes, but I suspect it serves me right for going for an extreme situation.

"Not in the hospital wing," I commented. "But later tonight? Sure. Just don't give me any of that crap about things for my safety. Theodore has finally stopped insisting I marry him. And that may be because you tried to kill Draco. So you're staying around. Deal with it."

"Okay, Daphne," he sighed.

"Good. Now give me a hug and a kiss and tell me you love me and that you'll be more than willing to let me help you however I can," I ordered. He looked at me and looked, well, a little terrified. I realized I'd used the 'L' word, albeit indirectly. But after a moment he recovered and hugged me and kissed me.

"Daphne. I'm glad you're willing to help," he said. He swallowed hard and looked at me. "And-" but the doors to the hospital opened. Professor Dumbledore walked in with Madame Pomfrey. Harry turned to look at the two staff members.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "Would you be willing to accompany me this evening?"

"Where are we going?" Harry asked. He slipped away from me and looked at the Headmaster.

"I promised I would let you accompany me the next time I left the castle," The professor said. But I could tell there was more there that wasn't being said. Potter swallowed hard and looked at the old man.

"Okay," he said. He turned back to me and gave me one last peck on the lips before joining the professor. I just watched him go without saying a word. I felt rather stupid as I stared after him.

"Hey, Daphne?" Madame Pomfrey asked from near her office. "Would you help me brew some pain potions?"

"Yeah, okay," I said. I knew she couldn't have possibly needed more. It was too close to the end of the semester and we'd just inventoried them the other day. But still, it was something to do. Something that made me not think of just what Harry was doing as he slipped out with Dumbeldore. And I relished the monotonous task.

Author's Note: As always, thanks for reading, I do appreciate it. The best way to contact me is typically through PM on the website, I do try to respond to all of those that I receive.

On a story related note, this story is finished. The final bits are going through the beta process and will be posted when I receive them back. I'm currently debating what of my stories to work on. I also have an interesting idea for a short, comedic, crossover story that I may write.

Thanks again.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Author's Note: I usually do these at the end but decided to do this one up here. This is the final content chapter. I thank all of you for reading and reviewing, I do appreciate it. I may write an epilogue of some sort in the coming months. I have one planned, but decided it was best left off for now.

Chapter 18

The monotony didn't help as much as I'd have liked. I made the potions the best I could. They didn't quite appear to be the right shade, but Madame Pomfrey didn't seem to mind as we took the time to bottle them.

Is it still called bottling when you very carefully pour the liquid into small vials, cork them, and then magically seal them? I suppose it has to be but it seemed far more complicated than bottling.

"Miss Greengrass?" Madame Pomfrey asked as we moved back into the hospital proper, away from the small room off of her office where she brewed the medical potions.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Do you mind watching the hospital for a few hours while I finish up some end of the year paperwork?" The nurse asked. I didn't really want to do that. I wanted to go back to the common room and be alone. But I figured I wouldn't be alone in the common room, so that probably wasn't a fantastic idea.

"Sure," I said. I walked over to the corner and looked through the supply cabinet. Mostly out of boredom, but partially because it was standard practice to make sure you had just about everything you could possibly need in case of an emergency.

"Thank you," Pomfrey said before disappearing into her office. I watched her, through the window on the door, as she took out a gigantic ledger and a quill and started writing something or other.

I wandered over to the bed where I'd left my supplies and took out my history text. I figured I'd read as much as I could before I went back to the common room. I noticed that Harry left his supplies as well and rolled my eyes a bit. He could be a little forgetful from time to time. I tossed his pack next to mine and sat on the end of one of the beds with the history text.

And you know something? The only thing worse than history reading, is history rereading. I found myself just paging through the text at a much faster rate than I should have. But mostly I was just looking for key terms, key people, and key dates. And thankfully, I remembered most of it. Of course the fact that I remembered most of it just made it even more painful to do the reading.

But I slogged through it. It took up at least forty-five minutes. Maybe closer to an hour, but it was worth it. History would be a lot easier if the stupid ghost would at least provide like a study guide or any sort of reference material for the exams. Oh well. At least the standardized exam after fifth year had been much easier than anything the ghost had ever given us. So I could only assume next year's test would be the same thing.

I tossed the book back down on my bag and wondered just how much paperwork the nurse had to do at the end of the year. I glanced into the office and it at least appeared she was working rather diligently.

I daydreamed a bit. But they weren't pleasant daydreams. Mostly I just paced around the hospital wing and wondered just what Potter and the headmaster were up to. I probably shouldn't have brushed him off so quickly when he'd wanted to talk to me. But Dumbledore had shown up so quickly that I doubt he'd really have had much of a chance to tell me anything.

But still, what could they be doing? Especially that would cause them to leave the castle?

Although, I suppose there were really many options. Dumbledore held many titles, after all, and I'm sure it could have been some political thing. But Harry never really seemed that interested in politics. Of course, he only ever really expressed interest in anything but quidditch or the Aurors when talking with me. And I always thought he was leaning a bit more toward quidditch.

He'd always just shrugged and said he didn't know when I asked him what he wanted to do! And I wasn't going to press him on that topic because I hated that question more than just about anything in the world.

I wondered if there was some sort of auror thing going on that he could have been visiting. But Dumbledore hadn't mentioned anything like that. Instead he'd just implied he'd promised Potter he could travel with him the next time he left the castle. That didn't seem to be like it would be for some specialized auror thing. But politics made some sense. I wondered if the Supreme Mugwump was required for something.

I just crossed my arms over my chest and fumed a bit. I'd just have to pester him into telling me when he got back. Hopefully, it wasn't anything dangerous. I'm not even sure why I thought that. I mean, why would it be dangerous? Why would the headmaster be taking one of the students out of the safety of the school and into something dangerous? That just didn't seem like good logic.

On the flip side, though, Potter hadn't gotten hurt since his quidditch mishap, so he was probably due for an end of term hospital trip. And I tried to shake that thought out of my head as quickly as I could.

"Uhm, excuse me?" a soft voice said from the doorway. I cursed a bit under my breath wondering just how stupid I looked as I literally tried to shake a thought out of my head when he'd entered.

"Yes?" I said as calmly as I could. I took a moment to smooth my skirt out, even though it wasn't ruffled or anything.

"I was sent down here to get some dittany," the boy said quietly. I just tilted my head to the side and looked at him. He was a younger Gryffindor and I vaguely recognized him but I couldn't remember from where.

"We don't just give away dittany," I said as sternly as I could muster. It wasn't that sternly. But the hospital didn't really give away anything. That wasn't the point of having a hospital. Sure if you had a signed request from a professor you could get some stuff. But that was the only way to have that work.

"Please?" the boy asked with a little bit of a frown.

"Sorry, Colin," I said as I recognized him as the boy from outside the hospital when Harry was injured. He just didn't have his camera this time and the lack of the bulky contraption made him seem thinner.

"Hermione said you'd be willing to help!" the young boy countered. I just crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him.

"Did she now?" I asked. He winced away from my tone.

"Yes," Colin responded. I rolled my eyes.

"Well that's nice of her, telling you what I'd be willing to do and all," I commented. He just frowned a little bit and looked confused. Of course, he didn't know that the absolute worst thing he could have done was mention Granger.

"Please?" he asked again. I wondered if he was adopting the one word response strategy I normally used. I didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't going to help his cause.

"Can't," I said. "Pomfrey will have my ass if I do."

"You couldn't convince her to give me some?" he asked.

"No," I laughed. "How would I be able to convince her some Gryffindor needed something used primarily to heal severe cuts?"

"Hermione said she let you take some stuff out of the hospital before," Colin countered. And Potter and I were going to have a conversation about exactly what he told Granger. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd told her just what that had been and just what we'd done with it that night.

"Oh, you're right, she did!" I said, feigning that I'd forgotten about that whole incident just a few weeks ago.

"So you can give me some then?" Colin smiled brightly. I just shook my head and laughed.

"Well, for one, Madame Pomfrey didn't give me anything. She gave it to Potter. And I'm pretty sure she had Professor McGonagall's permission to do so," I said slowly. Potter hadn't admitted it, but I thought the punishments that the nurse came up with were too quick and too organized to just be something on the fly. I expect that the Transfiguration professor collaborated with the nurse before Professor Snape showed up.

"Oh," he sighed, frowning a little bit. "There has to be something I can do!"

"This isn't a pawn shop," I laughed. "I can't like trade you dittany for favors."

"So there's no way I can get some? Ginny and Hermione thought it would be important to have." I pressed my lips together as he spoke. I couldn't help but wonder what they would need the dittany for. But I suspected that Colin wouldn't have known. And I wasn't going to immediately barter with him after I said I couldn't.

"Well, I got special treatment after one of my housemates hit me in the chest with a cutting curse and a bludgeoner," I replied.

"Oh," Colin said. I nodded.

"And if you walk out of the hospital, and then come back in cursed, I'm just going to treat you and hold you overnight, so don't bother," I responded.

"I wouldn't do that," he gasped. I laughed a little bit.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," I said reassuringly. He just frowned a little bit.

"But I'm not getting any dittany," he sighed.

"You are not," I said.

"Oh," he frowned and looked very disappointed.

"You can tell Granger and Weasley that if they want some dittany they should come down and ask the nurse themselves," I responded as sweetly as I could. I picked up a little bottle of it from a nearby bedside table, just so Colin wouldn't get the idea to snatch some. He just nodded again.

"Okay," he sighed and turned to the door. I watched him for a few moments then shook my head.

"Hey Colin?" I asked.

"Yes?" he turned around, looking very surprised and eager.

"Can you do me a favor?" I smiled fully at him.

"What's that?" he frowned a little bit. I picked Harry's pack up off the bed and dropped the bottle into it.

"Harry left this here. You mind taking it back to the common room?"

"Oh, uhm, No," he said. "But won't he get in trouble?"

"Better him than me," I smiled. He just laughed a little bit as I tossed the bag toward him. Thankfully he caught it. It would have been fun to explain to Harry why his books were ruined by spilled medical supplies.

"Okay," he shook his head, but he was still smiling. "Thanks Daphne."

"Tell Granger and Weasley you stole it," I smiled. He just looked at me funny but left the hospital wing as I heard the door to Pomfrey's office open. Obviously he didn't want the nurse to get any ideas. After a few moments the nurse walked up to my side and smiled a little bit.

"Please don't give away medical supplies to students, Miss Greengrass," she said.

"Potter did it," I responded quickly.

"I'll scold him too, then," she said. "But in the interim, please do not give away medical supplies to students."

"Okay," I said.

"And if you do, at least try to pester them into whatever they need it for," Pomfrey sighed.

"Why? They'll just lie," I said. I knew I would in that situation.

"Usually. But at least that makes them work for it," she sighed. I smiled a little bit.

"Oh," I laughed a little bit. "I didn't really think of that."

"Of course not. That's the point of apprenticing. You won't let them get away with that again," Pomfrey nodded knowingly.

"I guess," I said, feeling a little annoyed that she'd caught me slipping the dittany into Potter's bag.

"At the very least you did give him a vial that was essentially empty, though. A few minor uses at best. Hopefully he realizes that and doesn't try anything too absurd," Pomfrey said.

"What do you think he'd try?" I asked.

"I don't know. I doubt it is for him. He seemed genuine with the bit about Miss Granger. But I can't imagine why she would need dittany, either," Pomfrey explained. "Either way, I can take over for the rest of the night."

"Alright," I said as I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

"Thanks for your help," she said as I left. She always thanked us when we leaved, it was nice. I smiled at her.

"Until next time," I responded as formally as I could do. At first I was usually dragging Harry out of the hospital wing as quickly as possible, but it was starting to grow on me. I just gave her a little bit of a wave and moved to exit the hospital.

I made my way slowly back to the common room. I debated stopping in the Great Hall and seeing if I could still get a bite to eat. But I figured studying and sleeping would be a better option than the salad I'd eat.

Even if I splurged and had a sandwich it probably wouldn't be worth losing the study time over. Well, I could always read and eat, but I tended to not remember as much stuff when I did that, and it usually took me longer.

So I managed to pull myself away from the doors to the Great Hall and just move toward the dungeons. The allure of food faded from my mind almost as soon as the Great Hall wasn't in my sight.

I meandered a bit, talking the long way when I noticed a group of Ravenclaws congregating in the hallway. An extra few minutes of walking seemed worth it. Especially when the alternative was to attempt to weave through some young, female, Ravenclaws. The fewer questions I had to answer about Potter the better.

I checked my watch as I hopped down the steps to the dungeons. It was closer to lights out than I thought. But that happens as the days get longer. I always find myself thinking it's earlier than it is toward the end of term.

The door to the common room sprung open before I approached it. I stepped aside as two first year girls stepped out into the hallway. They both looked slightly alarmed to see someone in the hallway. One of the girls looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place her. It didn't help that I'd spent less and less time around my housemates of late.

They stared at me for a moment before scampering away. After a few seconds I hollered after them.

"Wait, girls!" I said. I was feeling rather charitable that evening.

"What?" one of them asked, turning and looking at me. Her tone was much harder than her confused expression warranted. I just smiled a little bit.

"Be careful. It's almost after hours. Professors are really harsh about being out late at the end of term," I said. I'd been caught out my first year and it hadn't ended well.

"We're just going to the library," the first girl spat. There was a little more anger in her voice than I'd have suspected from a twelve year old. But that wasn't too uncommon in our house.

I know it may be hard to imagine. But there were a lot of very spoiled, very entitled, pureblood princesses in my house. I realize I could never possibly be construed as such a thing, but it still typically took a few years for some of the girls to grow accustomed to not getting everything they want and come out of the bitchy shell.

"After hours rules still apply there," I smiled but then just gave them a little wave and ducked into the dungeons, not bothering with whatever their response would be.

I found my usual couch as soon as I entered the common room. Astoria was perched on the opposite end of it, chatting with a boy in her year. She was being a bit flirtier than I would have expected from her with anyone not named Blaise. But Blaise was nowhere to be seen. I should really have thought about asking Astoria what was up with her boyfriend. But I wasn't sure I really wanted to talk about that with her right now.

So I leaned against the opposite arm on the couch and pulled out my runes book. I may have been done with the final project, but that certainly didn't give me an exemption from the vocabulary that was sure to take up at least half of the final exam. Fortunately for me, the back of the text had an extensive list of the translations that we'd used during the course of the term.

The index was a very handy resource. But I'd used it less and less with each passing class. Sure it was nice to have it there as a crutch, but it didn't take long to realize that the direct translations meant very little without the lessons and the context. But it was still probably the best place to start studying for any runes test or quiz.

And I got at least ten minutes of studying before Tracey plopped down between my sister and myself on the couch and let out an annoying sounding sigh.

"What, no booty call tonight?" she asked, glancing down at the text. I just rolled my eyes.

"Studying," I responded. Of course, it was the first time I hadn't clearly denied anything sexual she referenced.

"Boring old Daphne and her studying," Tracey sighed. Then she blinked. "Hey does that mean you do have booty calls with Potter?"

"I didn't say that," I frowned. "Just that I was studying."

"Slut," Tracey laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"Is it always sex with you?" I laughed as I said it, which betrayed that I was trying to sound annoyed.

"Not always," she sighed longingly. "Only when I miss Titus."

"So, yes, it's always sex with you," I deadpanned.

"Maybe," she laughed. "But I mean, really, it's been since like…January!" And I just rolled my eyes.

"How ever have you survived?" I asked, feigning shock.

"I don't know," she laughed. "But boy do I miss him."

"Should probably stop taking the potion then. Will help with that," I said dryly.

"And go back to regular cycles? Ugh no chance," she responded. I don't know if the takeoff was worth it. But she seemed to think so.

"Then don't bitch about missing your boyfriend," I said with a full smile.

"Hey now, just because you get to actually see yours regularly," she responded crossly. I just smiled again.

"Not sure how you deciding to date someone two years older than you who's never around is my problem," I said. Tracey just rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe Daphne the virgin has more sex than the rest of us," Tracey sighed. I rolled my eyes, but didn't bother to comment. I just wasn't sure it was worth it anymore. Of course, they'd been assuming that Potter and I were far more active than we were, and that it had been going on for far longer. But I felt like I was wasting my breath trying to correct them.

"I think Pansy still has her beat," Millicent said as she sat down in a chair near us.

"Probably," Tracey sighed. "Where is she anyway?"

"With Draco," Millicent sighed. "She went up to his dormitory not too long ago."

"I can't imagine getting up to whatever they get up to with Theodore around," Tracey commented.

"Me either," Millicent admitted. "Maybe they make him hide in the bathroom."

"Oh that's a thought," Tracey laughed.

"Trying to read," I commented, mostly because I didn't want them to continue any more with that train of thought. I didn't want to talk, or think, about Draco any more than I absolutely had to.

"You're always trying to read," Millicent laughed. "And your runes exam isn't for at least another week, so come on, girl talk time!"

"Agreed!" Tracey laughed.

"Ugh, fine," I sighed, closing the book. I had, to some extent, missed my friends a bit in the last few weeks. Especially that brief time when they blamed me for Draco and Theodore. "What are we girl talking about."

"Potter, duh," Tracey said. I rolled my eyes.

"What is it going to take to get you two to just shut up about him?" I laughed. I didn't really want to laugh. But it was more of an exasperated laugh than anything else.

"Gory details," Millicent commented.

"Well that's not going to happen," I responded.

"Please?" Tracey laughed.

"Oh fine, what!" I rolled my eyes as I spoke.

"Well, have you?" Millicent asked. I just shook my head at the question.

"Yes," I said. She and Tracey broke out into a massive fit of giggles as I admitted it.

"Oh my!" Tracey giggled.

"And?" Millicent laughed.

"It hurt," I responded dumbly. Which just made them giggle even more.

"It does that," Tracey said. "But it gets better!"

"Indeed," I said calmly.

"So how is he?" Millicent asked.

"Makes me happy enough," I commented.

"That's not a ringing endorsement," Tracey teased.

"He's fine," I said. "Is this really what we want to talk about?"

"Yes," Tracey sighed.

"Well I don't," I said.

"Tough," Millicent commented.

"Well he's fine," I said. "He makes me happy. I like being with him. A lot. So that's pretty much that."

"Only you could make a relationship that boring," Tracey said quietly. I just laughed this time.

"You didn't say you wanted it to be interesting. Just that you wanted to know if I'd slept with him," I said.

"Well yes, but it tends to help if you at least put some gossip into it!" Millicent laughed.

"But there isn't any gossip," I said quietly.

"There's always gossip!" Tracey said.

"Well not with us," I sighed.

"That's disappointing," Tracey sighed.

"You could always tell us why Potter tried to kill Draco," Millicent said.

"Because Draco and Theodore attacked me," I said. "And Harry didn't really like that."

"So he was defending you?" Tracey stared at me as she spoke. I know there were various rumors floating around the school as to why the three boys wound up in such harsh detentions, and why the two houses lost so many points.

"Yes," I said.

"That's romantic," Tracey said.

"I guess," I sighed. I hadn't really thought about it like that. Really, in my mind, he was mostly defending himself, and not defending me.

"What happened, like really?" Millicent asked. I stared at her for a few moments. I wanted to talk about that about as much as I wanted to talk about spending my nights with Potter. But it was easier to just talk than to beat around the bush.

"We were walking in the hallway and Theodore and Draco came around a corner. They made some annoying comments. Harry made fun of them. Eventually Theodore shot a spell at him. Then they were all just shooting spells at each other. I managed to be the only idiot who got hit by two spells."

"Two?" Millicent asked.

"Yeah, a cutter and a bludgeoner. The bludgeoner knocked me onto my ass. And that really annoyed Harry and he nailed Draco with a spell. And that's pretty much it. I woke up in the hospital wing not too long after."

"I wish you'd have gone easier on them for the punishment," Millicent sighed. I rolled my eyes.

"I wasn't even awake," I lied.

"I guess," Tracey laughed. "Still, seventy five points lost in a few seconds. Ouch. And I thought we had a shot this year."

"Apparently not," I laughed. "But it's looking like Ravenclaw, so that's at least a plus."

"Not a large one," Millicent retorted.

"At least there's still time for someone to do something stupid," Tracey sighed.

"Plenty of time," I agreed but Millicent just shook her head.

"No, I think all the stupid is probably done," Millicent said. I looked at her, as did Tracey. "We were just unfortunate enough to have two students involved to Gryffindor's one."

"You're probably right," Tracey admitted.

"And Ravenclaws don't tend to lose points stupidly," I sighed.

"Usually not," Tracey agreed. "Maybe two of them will get caught being inappropriate."

"Be better if it was like four of them," Millicent joked. I just nodded a little bit, despite the fact that a Ravenclaw foursome wasn't something I really wanted to think about.

"Well what are your summer plans?" I said to either of them. I didn't really care either way, but it would at least change the topic.

"I'm just going to sit around and hopefully get a chance to watch the Bats in the title game," Tracey sighed.

"If they lose he'll have more free time sooner," Millicent laughed.

"But he'll be annoyed and less fun to be around," Tracey sighed.

"So you'll take two more weeks of pure quidditch focus rather than an annoyed boyfriend?" Millicent countered.

"Oh yes," she sighed. "And it's not like they really get that much free time in the off season. They have to do all these camps and charity things and all sorts of other stuff."

"Really?" I asked. That seemed a bit strange. But I suppose for the amount of money they were paid, they should have to do some non-sporting activities.

"Yeah," Tracey said. "He keeps complaining of all of the off-season things he's going to have to do. But I'll be seventeen by the time the end of the year awards banquet rolls around, so he's going to take me!"

"Well that should be fun," I said. I had no idea what the end of the year awards banquet was, but I assumed from the title it was fairly self-explanatory.

"Oh yes. He has to be in the running for the top rookie," Tracey said. She sounded rather excited and happy for her boyfriend, even though I could tell that she didn't really know what she was saying. Well, maybe she did. In her situation I'd have just been mimicking things I'd heard and hoping my friends weren't better versed than I was. "But there's some Swedish kid playing for Appleby that's having a great year, too."

"I see," Millicent said.

"Well I hope he wins," I lied. I still didn't like Titus. And I didn't really have a reason for not liking him. As my original reason for doing so was because he was just terrible to Tracey. And now that he wasn't really being just terrible to Tracey I should have probably liked him more. But I didn't. And he was just going to have to deal with that.

Of course I suspect a good portion of it would be because I suspected he was sleeping with everything that bat eyelashes at him over the course of a season. Certainly there were occasional 'tell all' articles in tabloids. It kind of annoyed me that Tracey didn't think there was any truth there. But oh well.

"Me too," she smiled.

"Well how about you?" I nodded toward Millicent. "Any fun summer plans?"

"I doubt it," she admitted. "I'll probably just lounge around the estate. Although it will be nice to go riding again. I look forward to that."

"Miss your horses?" Tracey teased.

"Always," Millicent responded quickly. "They're more fun than just about everyone here."

"So you say," Tracey teased.

"You could always come up and try to ride one," Millicent laughed.

"Eek! No. There like five times my size!" Tracey gasped.

"Mathematically, probably more than that," I laughed. Millicent just smirked at her.

"How about you, Daphne, care to come up this summer and attempt another trail ride?" she teased, knowing full well the last one hadn't gone so well.

"Sure," I responded with a bright, jovial smile. "Just write to me so I know when to take a vacation out of the country."

"Haha," Millicent shook her head. "You two honestly don't know what you're missing."

"I'm sure," I admitted. Tracey just nodded with me.

"How about you, Daphne? When are you inviting Potter over to meet the parents?" Millicent asked, staring hard at me.

"And the Astoria," Astoria said from the other end of the couch. I'd forgotten she was sitting over there. She didn't look at us, but instead just went back to talking to the boy she was flirting with. I could tell from how she angled herself, though, that she was still eavesdropping on us.

"Not a clue," I said. And it was as honest of an answer as I could come up with.

"Well you're going to, right?" Tracey asked.

"Probably," I admitted. "But I know he has all sorts of stuff he does over the summers too. And he says he spends a vast majority of the summer with Weasley," I admitted.

"Where does he even live?" Millicent asked.

"No idea," I said. "I always assumed London, but I never asked."

"You assume everyone lives in London," Tracey laughed. And it was true. I was pretty surprised in first year when I found out that most of my housemates didn't live in the city.

"Quiet," I laughed. I relaxed onto the couch and looked around. For some reason my eyes settled on the sixth year boys dormitory. And almost as if on command, Theodore stepped out. I swallowed hard as he looked around the room. Our eyes met for a moment and he just smirked before walking over toward the fireplace. This time Astoria wasn't around to yell at him.

Tracey and Millicent seemed to notice, but they didn't say anything. I knew they thought the punishment on the boys was too severe, and that it was close enough to the end of term that it shouldn't matter at this point. But they couldn't see into my head and know just how little I wanted to be around him. Or how my side still hurt when I looked at him.

I just stared at him for a moment longer and then realized that I really didn't want to be in the common room anymore. I just stood and looked at my friends for a moment before I grabbed my bag and walked toward the exit.

"Where are you going?" Tracey asked.

"Uhm, the library," I lied, copying the excuse from the girl that I'd run into in the hallway before. "I won't be long. It just dawned on me I forgot to check out a history book I needed. Just going to run there and come back."

"Oh, okay," she laughed. "Don't get caught too late, we can't afford to lose any more points!"

"I won't," I said quietly as I left the common room, wanting to get as far away from Theodore Nott as humanly possible.

I didn't go to the library. In fact, I didn't go near the library. I started off in that direction, but took a different hallway when I noticed three Hufflepuffs loitering near one of the classrooms. I can only assume they were using it to study or something. Either way, I wasn't going to get close enough to them to ask.

So instead I wandered back toward the hospital wing. But I knew going there wasn't high on my priority list either, so I cut back in a different direction as I approached and wandered toward the Muggle Studies class room.

I didn't really want to go there, either. I mean sure, Professor Burbage would probably be there, and would likely have me help her with something, or do something or other that would likely distract me, give me an excuse to be out after hours, and allow me to feel better. But I didn't really feel like working. Or putting forth any more effort than walking.

I passed the Great Hall and looked toward the entryway of the school. I paused when I stared at the doors. It was a warm evening. But we really weren't supposed to be out on the grounds too late. But it was still a warm evening. A delightfully warm late-spring evening. Hubris won out and I walked outside.

But being outside didn't make my situation any better. I still didn't really know where I wanted to go, or what I wanted to do. I gazed around to see if anything was happening on the grounds. I hadn't expected there to really be anything, but I was wrong.

Some type of make-shift quidditch match was going on over at the pitch. There was a decent crowd and I could hear cheering and other crowd-related noise as I gazed over in that direction.

It probably wouldn't have been that bad to watch, but I assumed there were professors there, if for no other reason than to make sure the match ended at a reasonable time and that the students were all back into their common rooms in a prompt manner. And I didn't know how long it had been going on for, or how much longer the professors would let it go. And since I had just escaped my common room, I didn't really want to risk having to go back so soon.

Instead I decided to walk in the complete opposite direction as the pitch. I knew that wouldn't really lead me in any direction that I actually wanted to go. But it was a start. I didn't really pay attention as I walked. Once or twice I glanced at the setting sun, but that was about it. I was only marginally surprised when I wound up at the Gamekeeper's hut. The half-giant was sitting outside. He paused a little bit and stared at me.

"'Ello, Daphne," he said quietly. I was almost surprised he remembered my name.

"Hi Hagrid," I responded. I couldn't really think of anything better to do. I probably shouldn't have let myself wander so close to his hut.

"Can I 'elp ya?" he asked. I just shook my head.

"No," I said quickly. "Sorry."

"No need ta apologize. What are ya up ta?" he asked.

"I was just going for a walk," I said. "I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going and just wound up here. Sorry for intruding."

"Tha's alright," he responded. I stared at him for a moment. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to stay and be nice or if I should just flee. My instincts said flee. But Hagrid just leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"I think I should probably wander back to the castle now," I admitted. Hagrid just nodded.

"Ya," he said. "Do ya need an excuse?" I thought about it. It probably couldn't hurt to have one if I got caught out. Even if I didn't plan on returning to the common room immediately. But it also felt a little bit like I was using him and that just didn't seem nice. So I shook my head.

"No, I should be alright," I smiled. "Thanks anyway." He grunted a little bit and I turned around and wandered back toward the castle. But I veered off at the first fork and just kept walking. I still wasn't sure where I was going. So I just kept walking.

Interestingly, I'd wound up on a path that I wasn't particularly familiar with. In fact, I don't think I'd ever been on it before. In fairness, I didn't spend a great deal of time in the general area of the gamekeeper's hut, so I hadn't had a lot of opportunities to be on that path.

It led down to the lake. And I had a brilliant view of the sun shining onto the clear water as I approached a nearby bench and just sat down. The view was worth it. I just sat there and watched the sun set.

For some reason it made me rather nostalgic about the year. I know that's kind of stupidly cliché. But it was what it was. And as I watched the orange orb fall I couldn't help but sigh a little bit. It hadn't been nearly as boring of a year as fifth, that was for sure.

Sure, it had started out pretty monotonous, but wow had that changed quickly. I can pretty safely say that one year ago, had anyone told me I'd have slept with Harry Potter, I'd have probably hexed them.

Of course, a year ago I also thought this would be my final year at Hogwarts, but that wasn't to be. I'd have enough full year to cement my magical education and figure out what I wanted to do after school as well. It was a strangely daunting idea. Sure, in my mind a year seemed like an eternity. But as I reflected I realized just how quickly the last one passed and realized just how little time I had.

I had to admit, the prospect of a future still made me a little bit queasy. At least I figured I could con a few more years out of Muggle school before I really had to worry about it.

I sighed as the bottom of the sun hit the lake. In just a few more minutes it would be completely dark and I'd have no excuse for not being in the castle. But that didn't concern me as much as it should have.

Instead I just watched the sun fall and watched the sky change color with it. I thought about Potter as I stared at the water. I hoped he was okay. I really wished I knew what he was doing. And I wished he was back here, even if it was just to tell me I was being silly worrying about him.

I mean really, Daphne, he was with the headmaster. And Professor Dumbledore was nothing if not a supremely competent wizard. So I just closed my eyes and let out a contented sigh, determined to enjoy the last vestiges of heat the orb would offer.

I found myself lost in thought. And not all of the thoughts were entirely appropriate. More than I should admit to were about things I would have liked Potter to do to me later in the evening, if he were to return.

But eventually I got sick of thinking about that. Surprising, I know. And instead I thought about other things. Potter was still pretty much in the foreground of my thoughts.

But these thoughts were much less serious. I imagined coming home to a chic city apartment after a long day of classes. Potter was there because it was his off day. I liked the days where he didn't have quidditch. They were fun times that we spent entirely just with each other.

I imagined dancing again. He wasn't there for that. Which was a good thing because I was terrible. But it was nice to be in motion again, it made me feel better, happier, about everything in general. It was good exercise and it helped when classes seemed too stressful or too challenging.

I imagined passing all of my exams and graduating. But not from Hogwarts. My parents and Potter were waiting for me after the ceremony. My dad took the silly hat off my head and put it on his own as he hugged me. My mom told me how proud she was and Astoria commented that she so wouldn't call me doctor. But Potter just stood behind them and smiled at me, looking every bit as proud as my family.

I imagined jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. All ornate, and all adorned with various metals and gems. Certain favorites, and certain pieces that meant more because of when or why I'd been given them. And I imagined rings. Lots of rings. But a plain gold band with a little diamond formed the forefront of my mind.

And I imagined walking up the path of a park to meet them. I was carrying coffee, deliciously warm coffee on the cool morning. I saw them before they saw me. I just smiled and kept walking toward them. Eventually he noticed. He ran toward her and lifted the little blonde girl into his arms and walked toward me. Her green eyes shined, standing out on her inherited pale face. Her smile was oh so familiar.

I shook the last image out of my head. I didn't want to go there. By the time I opened my eyes night had well and truly come.

The moon provided enough light. It made me think about how I always wanted to go swimming by the moonlight. But that certainly wasn't going to happen tonight. I stared up at the luminescent orb for a few moments before I decided that I'd probably been out late enough.

I'm sure I could still come up with some sort of an excuse to why I'd been out. Accidentally falling asleep on a bench by the lake wasn't quite that much of a lie. And if I begged and pleaded I could likely only use a few points for my house and avoid a detention.

So I stood and walked back toward the castle. I looked at my feet as I walked. I'm not sure why. But it made me feel less conspicuous. And I'm sure probably made me look like I felt I'd done something stupid and was trying to avoid punishment. Which was true in a sense.

I kept moving toward the school. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if the doors were locked. I mean, they weren't usually. But there were those extra security measures this year. I'd pretty much forgotten about them since Filch attempted to shove a probe between my legs.

It would have been very embarrassing to be locked out of the school, though. So hopefully that wouldn't be the case.

I let my eyes wander a bit then. The quidditch pitch was deserted, so I'd at least been partially right when I assumed the professors wouldn't let the match proceed for too long. I couldn't imagine playing quidditch after dark. I know the professional stadiums had lights, which probably helped the cause. But I couldn't imagine trying to avoid a dark iron ball again the dark night sky.

I wondered, briefly, if the seekers found it easier at night. I suspected the ball stood out more when it was away from the lights, but I didn't know how it would affect it in the lights. I shrugged the thoughts off mostly because I didn't deem it worth thinking about. And would just have to settle for the fact that my vision sucked at night.

I turned my vision back to the castle, still gazing upward, and then my heart stopped.

It was hard to not recognize the symbol hanging in the sky above the tower. And I'd never even seen it before. Well, at least never in person. I remembered the headline from the World Cup readily enough.

A snake and a skull was a strange enough combination. I remembered thinking it was some sort of perverted Jolly Roger. And even now, my first thought was pirates. But that was after my heart started beating again. My second was to wonder how the dark symbol was even visible in the night sky. I think I recovered quickly enough, given the situation.

I just took a couple of very unsteady breaths and stared up at the sky. I reached for my wand in my pocket and ran it gently over my fingers before taking it out. I took one more deep breath and then I ran.

I ran to the gates of the castle. They weren't locked. There wasn't anyone in the entry hall. I suppose that shouldn't have surprised me. But for some reason it did. The school just seemed too empty.

I ran through the hallways. It took me a few moments to even realize where I was going. But it made sense, at least when I arrived there.

I threw open the heavy doors to the hospital wing. There weren't any patients. And at first, I assumed the nurse wasn't even there. But the light in her office was on, and moments later, the nurse emerged.

"Daphne!" She exclaimed. "What are you doing here? It's well after hours!"

"There's a dark mark above the north tower!" I yelled. I was panting a bit harder than I thought I should be. Could I really be that out of shape? Well, you didn't do much, Daph. Quiet.

"What?" The nurse gasped. She looked like she couldn't believe what I said.

"There's a dark mark above the north tower," I gasped, catching my breath as best I could. The nurse just stared at me.

"You're sure?" she said, her face and voice both becoming much sterner.

"Yes," I said as my breathing finally settled.

"Wait here," she said and she ducked back into her office. But I didn't listen. I waited for about ten seconds, and then I left the hospital. I didn't want to wait. I was too worried to wait. I needed to do something.

I couldn't get Harry out of my head. Somehow, I just knew that he was involved. I feared that he was the victim. With what the mark was supposed to represent, his death would be a big enough deal to warrant one. A big enough symbol. And I was scared.

And I mean, I know that we didn't really ever talk about wizarding society or politics or whatever. But deep down I knew that there was something more with him. And it could all be over. But I didn't want it to be over. It couldn't all be over. He was out with Dumbledore. He had to be safe! He had to be!

I was in the entry hall before I even really realized I'd left the hospital wing. I paused for the briefest of moments, purely because I couldn't think of which way would be the best to the north tower. It wasn't a part of the castle I frequented very often. I frowned and cursed aloud. There should be maps for this kind of thing!

I gave up trying to figure it out and just picked a staircase. I figured I had to go up, so I may as well start there and then just make my way north. I'd have to hit the tower eventually.

So I kept running, up steps, down hallways to where I knew the nearest staircases were. I didn't bother waiting for any of the moving ones and just kept moving. I ran into no professors, no other students no ghosts, or no other signs that anyone else was even in the castle.

Eventually, though, I could hear people. Just the din of conversation, or the banging of footsteps. Something or other at least. I moved in that direction. It seemed like the best bet. It sounded like there were many of them.

Moments later I saw Professor Snape and I let out a sigh of relief. Help. Someone else had seen the mark and they were going to help! I slowed down and stared at Snape, lowering my wand as I did.

And then I noticed that he was dragging Draco Malfoy by the arm. He seemed to be running. Forcing Malfoy to keep up with him as he moved. There was a tall black-haired woman with them, and a mean looking man. And then there were more of them. I didn't recognize any of them, but they all wore all black.

It's probably worth noting that my first thought was to hope my green tie could protect me.

It didn't. The woman cackled loudly and shot a spell at me. It hit me because I was too shocked to dodge. I fell against the wall and gasped. I think Snape yelled something at the woman. But the group just pressed on, moving quickly toward the path that I'd just walked up from.

"Daphne?" I heard moments later. I looked up and saw Potter. He looked furious. I pulled myself to my feet and threw myself at him, hugging him tightly.

"You're not dead!" I gasped. "I thought…I thought.." my voice just trailed off.

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry said. He hugged me back, weakly, but then pushed me off of him. "I have to go after him."

"But you're okay!" I said. It didn't even register to me that he'd said the headmaster was gone. If I'm honest, I was more relieved to see him. I doubt I'd have registered much else at that moment. "Please don't! Don't get hurt!"

"Daphne, I have to go after him," Harry said, forcefully. His eyes were shining and his jaw was set. He had his wand in his hand and I just nodded.

"Fine," I said. "But I'm coming with." He just looked at me for a moment and then gave me a very sharp nod. And then he ran off, following the group that Snape led. I took a deep breath and followed.

There was more action in the halls this time. There were people I didn't recognize everywhere. Spells were flying all over. A few came dangerously close to me, but didn't hit. I saw many things I wasn't quite sure what were. I'd have sworn a wolf mauled a red-head out of the corner of my eye. But when I turned in that direction, I didn't really see anything.

Harry was much better at navigating through the chaos than I was. He seemed to slip through bodies and spells without a second thought. I tried to follow him as best I could. I lost him once or twice, but I figured that Snape had to be trying to leave the castle. So I moved in the direction of the entrance and I found him again.

I passed some students on my way. I recognized red and blue ties. They were shooting spells at two of the dark cloaked figures who were trying to flee. Spells flew past me from that direction and I couldn't help but wonder which student had tried to curse a Slytherin.

But I didn't have time to find out. I just kept chasing after Harry. It was the only thing I could think of to do. So I did it.

Eventually, we burst outside. He was about fifteen feet in front of me at that point, as he started running down the path. He was faster than me. And he gradually wound up further and further ahead of me. But I tried to keep up.

I saw fire in the distance. At first I thought the forest was aflame, but it was too close. I swallowed hard. The Gamekeeper's hut? Why? I hoped the half-giant wasn't in it. He didn't deserve that fate.

It just infuriated Harry, though. I heard him shriek. He was yelling spells and firing them off as quickly as he could. Snape pushed Draco toward the woman. She grabbed him and the Potion's master turned to defend the rest of the group from Harry's attacks.

And Snape did so without a problem. He sneered at Harry as he did. I was almost close enough to help. It would have to be harder for him to fight off both of us. Even if I didn't really know many attack spells.

"Sectumsempra!" Potter yelled. I winced as he did that, but Snape just countered it while laughing. I couldn't make out his leering response. He was taunting Potter about his father, I think, or maybe about using Snape's spells. But that didn't make sense. I just pressed forward. I couldn't run much further. But I didn't have to. I was almost there. We were standing near Hagrid's hut. I could see the giant in the distance, he was approaching as well.

Snape just kept back peddling. He was letting Harry push him back, I realized. They were trying to flee. They just needed to get far enough away to escape. And I could see the gates not that much further away. Harry was pushing them in that direction. But I don't think there was anything else he could do. He had to try to stop them. But he looked defeated.

Then the woman came rushing forward. She launched a spell at Harry. He countered it but Snape yelled.

"No, Bella!" he said. "Potter belongs to the Dark Lord! Do not harm him!" But the woman, Bella, just laughed. I noticed, then, that no one was watching Draco. He raised his wand at Harry with a viscous slash.

"Sectumsempra!" he shouted. And Harry went down, blood flying from his chest. I yelled. Snape yelled. And somewhere behind me, Hagrid yelled.

"You fool!" Snape shouted. He knocked Draco over with a flick of his wand. He then gestured to Bella and she skipped over to him, laughing manically. Moments later he pulled Draco through the gate. Bella stepped past the portcullis and just disappeared. Snape looked back at Harry and just shook his head, swallowing hard. He looked, almost conflicted. But then, he to, disappeared.

I finally caught up with him and fell to my knees next to him. He was bleeding too much. More than Draco had. He'd been cut more than once, too. He was gasping, his green eyes looked lost as they met mine.

"Sanare! Sanare! Sanare!" I tried, even though I knew it was futile. I didn't know how to heal this spell. I tried all of the new spells Pomfrey had taught us. At first, the bleeding lessened, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was making progress. But then it just started up all over again.

"'Arry!" Hagrid shouted as he saw him. "Wha' happened!"

"Go get help!" I shrieked. "Get Pomfrey!" I kept trying to heal his wounds, but it wasn't working.

"I shoul' take him!" Hagrid yelled.

"He's bleeding too much!" I shrieked. "And I can't stop it!" The giant just nodded and stood, running toward the castle. He covered the ground quicker than I could even imagine. I kept trying to heal Harry, but it wasn't working. His eyes focused on mine and he gurgled. I think he was trying to talk, but words didn't come out.

"Shush," I ordered. I was crying. I could tell because I couldn't really see. He reached up and brushed my cheek, I pushed his arm back down and then slid my hands to his chest to apply pressure, doing the best I could to stop the bleeding. There wasn't anything else I could think of to do. Magic wasn't working.

"Harry! No. Save your energy, stay with me," I sobbed. He just gurgled again but smiled a little bit. His eyes were fading though, and for a moment, they glazed over.

I froze. I didn't know what to do. My wand slipped from my bloody hands and his bloody chest to the earth around us.

What was there to do? Really? I had no idea how to counteract dark magic. I'd proven that just a few weeks ago. Was I only going to be able to sit there and watch him die? Was that all I was good for?

No. I couldn't accept that. My parents wouldn't have ever accepted that! There had to be something I could do.

My parents.

Mom's articles.

I didn't understand those! And they were just theories! I frowned and stared at him. He was still breathing, but his consciousness was ebbing.

But magic is about intent.

That's what they always tell you. Magic is about intent. I don't know if they were right or wrong. But I knew what my intent was, and I had no other choices.

I focused on Harry, I focused on him with everything I had. My hands pressed to the open wound on his chest. It must have stung him, as his near comatose body winced away from my touch. It certainly couldn't have been hygienic. But that was all I could do. I focused on him, and only him.

I wasn't sure when the temperature had dropped so much. But I could see my breath in the dark night. My hands were suddenly freezing. I didn't care, I wasn't going to leave.

What was it we'd talked about so much this year in Muggle studies? Parasites? Why was that so strangely fitting.

"Heal," I stammered as I focused on him. Everything was so cold. It had been such a warm night too! But now freezing. I felt like my blood was freezing in my veins. I barely noticed the frost forming on the ground around us.

"Heal you stupid prick," I muttered. My chest seemed to hurt more than it should from just running, but the familiar burn was there as I gasped for air. My legs were killing me, the run catching up to my mucles.

My hands hurt too, I don't know why they did, probably from holding my wand too tightly. But my chest really hurt. Had that wound reopened? It hadn't done that in weeks!

I just kept focusing on him. The blood was everywhere. I could feel it flowing freely around my fingers, around my hands. It was warm, but my hands were so cold that I barely noticed. My vision was blurring. His face was blurring. His eyes were brighter, though, but not yet coherent.

"Come on," I screamed. Or I wanted to. It came out no more than a whisper. "heal!" I ordered. And then I didn't feel the blood flowing anymore. When I pressed my hands to his chest it seemed whole. I smiled. It worked.

Maybe they were right, maybe magic was really just all about intent.

I looked back down at him. He gagged a couple of time, but his eyes focused on mine. And then he gasped. I wondered if he noticed just how cold my hands were. It was almost silly. I also wondered when my eyelids got so heavy.

"Daphne!" he yelled. And I just smiled at him. He really did have pretty eyes. So bright and green and full of life. So perfect. I just smiled more. I felt the last vestiges of warmth flow out from my hands and to his chest. I tried to smile, but I'm not sure if my face moved at all.

And then I just couldn't. I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I fell forward, toward his chest and for a brief moment, everything was warm. His warmth. But then it was metallic, and red.

But the warmth didn't last. Moments later, it was freezing again. Icy. And I couldn't move. And everything was black.

Fin.


	19. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit.

Acknowledgments: Alpha-Alliera, and Zaion Indulias for the beta work.

Author's Note: This is a very long (over double the length of a normal chapter) bit that is only posted because it existed in the plan of the story, and I wrote it rather than planning DiP. And it's mostly just being posted so I can soap box about how you should go read my new Harry Potter / Mario Kart crossover, Harry Potter and the Toadstool Cup. It's a collaboration between my betas and I and just a four chapter bit of fun. Check it out!

Epilogue

The twenty-four hour café near the studio was a godsend. I spent the vast majority of my evenings there. It was easier than doing reading in my apartment. Ever since the dreams started I'd spent less and less time in my own home. I didn't really have a reason for it. Somehow I just felt better there.

I'd even parlayed that into a job, surprisingly enough. The owner, a thirty-something named Derek, made an offhanded comment to me that I was there so often I should get paid for it. So I handed him a job application. Derek was fairly shocked that I only wanted to work nights, and we worked out a four day schedule. He didn't really care that I did reading or other homework while I was supposed to be making coffee. At least I typically waited on the drunks, I mean customers, when they showed up.

Sure working twenty-hours a week as a barista wasn't the best way to pay the rent, but my father kicked in for that, and tuition, so my expenses were fairly minimal.

Of course, he didn't really want me to have a job. He told me I should be focused entirely on school and should keep my grades up. It would probably really kill him to know that I worked from midnight to five, four nights a week. But it helped. I'd gone to him about the dreams, but he couldn't help. I suppose I shouldn't have started the conversation trying to beg a prescription for a sleep-aide.

Mom may have provided me with one. But that just couldn't happen anymore. She'd have probably had something for the dreams in general. She was always better with that stuff than Dad was.

Still, even on the three nights I didn't work, I found myself at the café more often than not. Derek didn't care, but he made me pay for drinks on the nights he was working. He claimed something along the lines that pity and smiles could only get me things when I wasn't employed. Not sure how I liked the trade-off, but It worked.

On some nights I could exhaust myself enough dancing that I could sleep uninterrupted, but those nights seemed few and far between.

It was strange to think I'd kept this routine up for over a year. I'd tried other things. But for some reason the café was just the most calming. Derek even invited me to join his younger brother, Ian's, Dungeons and Dragons game. They played most Friday and Saturday nights. I was plenty skeptical at first.

Ian and his friends were certainly skeptical as well. But I showed up every week, for every session. I even bought my own dice and little figurines. And then somewhere in there, Caelya, a level nine cleric came about.

That all could have just been because there was something inherently wrong with me hanging out on weekends with a bunch of teenagers. But strangely, I felt more comfortable when I was with people younger than me. My sister thought I was some type of perverted, pedophile geek.

She was probably right. But for what it was worth I didn't want to sleep with Ian or his friends. Still, that didn't stop them from flirting incessantly with Caelya. It took me some time to realize they weren't actually flirting with me. At least I don't think they were.

Part of me wondered why Derek suggested I get involved with them. I think he had my best interests in mind. Strangely, I became decent friends with everyone in the small group, and my boss. But it was a little pathetic that they were some of my best friends. I barely knew any of the other dancers at the studio, and my classmates were just a blur of images in my brain.

And then there were boyfriends. Some of them stuck around long enough to get to the point where night terrors scared them off. But I guess I was just no fun in general because it was really rare. I guess most were annoyed that I wouldn't let them touch me. But I couldn't help it. I really didn't like to be touched. Every time someone laid a finger on me they just commented on how cold I was. It irritated me.

I suppose it also didn't help that I didn't like bringing them back to my apartment, or going back to wherever they lived. I preferred parks, or coffee shops, to anything. But Derek and Ian only made fun of me when I'd bought a boy there. Of course, he'd fled almost as soon as talk of characters started up.

But our Friday night game was proceeding fairly normally. We were investigating the ruins of an ancient castle. Ian couldn't have known why that gave me the shivers. Although I had confessed to Derek about the dreams. They were always the same. I was trapped in a dilapidated castle. There was no way out, no matter which way I went. Pieces of it fell toward me. And eventually, something got me. Most nights it was something different.

I'd been impaled by a suit of armor, crushed by scaffolding, fallen off stairs into a dark abyss, attacked by gargoyles, both stone and real. I'd been attacked by tress, centaurs, snakes, rats, owls, and just about any other creature you could imagine.

And now, in some imaginary game, I had to fight them. Medically, I suppose there was some type of escapist aggression theory thing going on. But mostly I just didn't like to think about the fake castle we were in, because it made me think about the fake castle I died in on an almost nightly basis.

At least I wasn't screaming yet.

Although I wasn't thinking as quickly on my feet as the boys were accustomed to. I think it was irritating them, but they didn't comment. A part of me knew it was because they weren't willing to comment. Losing the token girl in the group would have made the game so much less fun!

Of course, part of me didn't really want to think about what the younger boys fantasized about when it came to the token girl in the group. But as long as they didn't try anything, I didn't really care too much.

It may have been sad that I needed a group of teenage boys to think I was pretty to give me some sort of self-confidence. I thought it best to not go there.

It took me a minute to realize that it was my turn. I didn't quite remember what was going on in the game, but I bought some time with a smile and thought back to what was going on. I vaguely remembered one of the characters being poisoned and decided to heal that and scamper away from some undead during my turn. I drew a few laughs at using the word scamper.

A couple of customers entered the café. We were fairly busy, but we were always fairly busy, being one of the few establishments open during the course of the night. Derek was behind the counter that evening. I didn't have a shift, so I didn't really pay that close of attention to the customers.

Instead I tried to focus on the skeletons that ambushed our small party. Whatever treasure Ian had put into this stupid castle better have been worth it. At least, I could already tell what was going to kill me the next time I slept.

God, that's a morbid thought.

One of the bastards shot an arrow at Caelya. Thankfully I rolled high enough that it missed. Which was pretty amazing because my elf had to be the clumsiest person in existence. She didn't dodge anything. Even more amazing was that the dodging didn't have me like fall down a set of stairs or something.

All in all, we were doing pretty well against the skeletons. But I knew they'd just be the first stage. So we'd have to keep alert to whatever detail that Ian threw in as some type of clue. He didn't like having us blind to the horrors that waited ahead. Or something like that.

I didn't remember being this much of a geek in high school, but it was surprisingly fun.

I ignored another group of customers that wandered in. They were clearly drunk and clamored loudly. It kind of killed the mood for a few moments, but I didn't suspect they'd spend that long in the shop as they were too busy talking about what clubs they wanted to hit up later in the evening.

One of the boys, Matthew, or Ragthuk, made a comment that as the resident dancer I should take them out clubbing. I rolled my eyes and made some non-witty comeback about how I only did serious dancing. I didn't comment that I was terrible at it, they all assumed I was good, probably because it seemed like all I really did was class, studio, café.

And I didn't like clubs. They were too claustrophobic there were too many people and they were all too touchy. Not to mention that clubs were insufferably warm.

Another patron walked in. He wore a dark coat against the chill, probably rainy night. I hadn't looked outside in a while, but it was that time of year. I didn't mind. A little cold rain could be nice. I took a sip of my iced tea while I waited for my next turn.

"Black coffee," the patron said, rather sternly. Sternly enough to draw my attention back to him. He was glancing up at the menu as he spoke. "Ham and swiss, too."

"Five Fifty," Derek responded. The patron paid and Derek moved over toward the coffee machine. He grunted, hit it, and then shook his head.

"Hey Daph," He said. "Can you make the ham and swiss? Stupid machine is acting up again."

"Caelya is busy, and doesn't work tonight," Ian shouted back. Derek glared at him but I just stood up.

"Caelya likes keeping her job," I said as I moved toward the counter. I washed my hands quickly. Probably too quickly for most health inspectors, but customers tended to prefer that you got to their orders quickly.

I grabbed one of the rye buns and applied some Dijon mustard to it before piling up the ham. I usually used more pieces than Derek wanted, but he was busy with the coffee machine. I added some lettuce and a couple of onions before a slice of tomato.

"For here or to go?" I asked, without looking up at the customer. He didn't seem to hear me, it took a moment for him to respond.

"To go," he said quietly. Derek got the machine to work and he started with the coffee as I wrapped and bagged the sandwich. He just slid the coffee down toward me as I moved to the counter to bag the food. I handed the customer the bag first and grabbed the coffee next. He didn't really pay attention when he took the brown bag from me, but he gaze turned on me as he took the coffee.

I put the cup into his hand and then it just fell. The top popped off as it impacted on the counter. The hot liquid splashed everywhere, but I managed to catch the vast majority of it with my clothing.

"Hot hot hot!" I gasped, grabbing some napkins and attempting to get as much of the liquid off of me as possible.

"Daphne!" Derek groaned and immediately started making another coffee. The patron didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared at me. A few moments later Derek handed him the new coffee. He looked down at it, and then looked at me. I was only thinking about how I was glad I'd worn black jeans and a dark blouse that day. At least the stain wouldn't be too noticeable the rest of the night.

The customer took the new coffee and stared at it, almost as if he didn't recognize the cup he was holding. But then his gaze turned back to me and he just kept staring. I looked back at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Do you need something else?" I asked as sweetly as I could muster. My tone certainly didn't match my demeanor. It took him a moment to respond, and when he did it was like he didn't trust his words.

"Can I eat this here?" he asked. I frowned.

"Of course," I said, still managing to act as cheerful as possible. I was putting forth far too much effort for my night off. "Would you like me to get you a plate?"

"No, that's alright," he said carefully. He just kept looking at me. I shrugged.

"Alright. Well, help yourself to a table. Derek can help you if you need anything else." I nodded toward my boss, who was looking at the customer with a curious expression on his face. He didn't trust this one, I could tell. That or maybe he just hadn't tipped.

I didn't give it any more attention than that. I went back to the game and I lost myself in it, and I was rewarded a new staff for my efforts. I didn't notice that the customer sat at a table directly behind me. In fact, I'd forgotten entirely about him until our game ended that evening and Ian and his friends dispersed.

I asked Derek if he needed anything else that evening. He told me to go home and get some sleep for once. And he even commented that I could probably save a fortune in makeup if I got rid of the bags under my eyes the way normal people do. Hate e I told him to go to hell, as cheerily as I could, and left the café.

I'd only made it a few steps when the door opened against behind me. I assumed I'd forgotten something so I turned to ask Derek what I'd done. But it wasn't Derek standing there. It was the patron.

"I will scream and bolt for the door," I said, nodding toward the café. He looked at me and blinked.

"What?" he asked. I just crossed my arms over my chest.

"Why are you following me," I demanded.

"I uhm," he paused. At least he didn't deny it.

"Out with it," I said. He just stared at me and ran a hand through his messy dark hair.

"Don't you recognize me?" he asked.

"No," I said flatly. I'd never seen him before in my life. He looked pretty standard, though. There wasn't anything unusual, or really anything worth mentioning. "And that is the worst pickup line ever."

"Hogwarts?" he asked carefully, saying the word with a hushed reverence. I just blinked at him.

"Is that like a concert? I went to Glastonbury a few months ago," I lied. It was more like two years. But who keeps that close of track of time these days?

"No, it's not," he sighed. "You really don't remember me?"

"I've never seen you before in my life," I responded as sternly as I could. He just looked at me for a few moments, and I'm not afraid to admit that the next thing he said caught me completely off guard.

"Come to diner with me," he said. It wasn't really an invitation, although I suppose it was, to some extent, a question.

"It's three fifteen in the morning and you just had a sandwich. Which you better have enjoyed because I didn't get paid to make it," I responded as coldly as I could.

"It was good," he said quietly, again he didn't seem sure of his words.

"I'm going home now," I said. "Don't follow me or I'll call the police." To make a point of it I fished my phone out of my purse and flipped it open.

"Please?" he asked.

"No," I said. Although I felt pretty happy that someone asked me out. It had been a while.

"Come on," he frowned. "Just once. I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise. You can pick the place and walk out on me at any time. Just come to dinner with me."

"That's a pretty pathetic thing to say," I commented, tilting my head to the side. "Do girls walk out on you often?"

"Typically it's been the other way around," he joked. I didn't find that funny so I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So you typically abandon people you ask out and after admitting to it, want me to go out with you?" I asked, doing my best to sum up the situation.

"Something like that," he admitted.

"No," I said again, turning and continuing on my way home.

"I'll tell you what," he said as I walked. "I'll be at that place on the counter there Sunday evening at eight. Come if you want." I ignored him. But I knew the little bistro he was talking about. They had a fantastic chicken chopped salad and I as a sucker for the profiteroles. But I still knew I wouldn't go.

I looked around when I got to my building. He hadn't followed me. At least if he had I couldn't spot him. So I ducked inside and continued up to my apartment.

I changed quickly and tossed myself onto my bed. I didn't want to sleep, but I was exhausted. And I knew it didn't matter that we'd slain the lich lord during the evening, my sleep would still be plagued with images of his undead body.

But when I fell asleep I didn't dream of abandoned castles or undead monsters or even my own demise. Instead I dreamed of trenches. It wasn't that much of an upgrade, but it was an upgrade.

I lost myself in images trenches and soldiers. One in specific led me through the maze of pathways, always away from the explosions and sounds of war. And on that night, I didn't witness my own demise.

I didn't go to the restaurant on Sunday night. I made the excuse to myself that I lost track of time dancing. But that was pretty much bullshit. I watched the clock tick by for about a full hour before and after I was invited.

And then I gave up and went to the café.

Both Derek and Ian were off that evening, and, unlike me, didn't spend the majority of their free time at the little shop. I just ordered up some tea and sat at a small table in the corner and studied for my organic chemistry midterm. It wasn't particularly fun, but it needed to be done. After not nearly long enough everything on the page blurred into one stupid glob of crap.

But I soldiered on. There wasn't really anything else I could do. I didn't really like my future being dependent upon a grade in a class. But I still wasn't sold on medical school. Dad wanted me to do it. I'm sure Mom would have wanted me to do it.

And it was a little strange, sometimes, when studying for the medical stuff, I thought I already knew it. I mean, I know I didn't. But things just sort of just made sense. Even now as I read the chemistry book I felt like I remembered most of it pretty perfectly. And the problems weren't as hard as they probably should have been.

At the same time, I'd been taking ancient history and archeology courses as well, and they were very interesting. And I thought going and digging somewhere and trying to unearth the past would be every bit as worthwhile as becoming a doctor.

And I also liked the civics and history courses I'd had to take. It was probably too early to totally switch my focus to pre-law, but I'd heard some of the schools just wanted your test grades and grade point to be high, the actual major wasn't overly important.

Either way, I'd have to start applying to places soon, so I'd have to figure out exactly what I wanted to do.

Maybe I should focus on dancing? That could be fun. I mean I wasn't great, but I wasn't terrible. I mean I'd done it pretty much constantly since I was seven. It had killed a fair amount of my free time in high school. And I'd focused on that rather than many extracurricular.

But I liked it as exercise more than I liked it as a possible profession. I think amateur was the best I'd ever manage in that field. But I wasn't that annoyed with that. Still, I wasn't sure if the boys were more amused by the token girl in the group, or the token ballerina in the group. Either way, I didn't mind. Thankfully they didn't, like, show up at the studio, ever.

I lost interest in studying much quicker than I would have expected. Mostly I just stared out over the dark streets and thought about things. I didn't really think about anything important, but just random things. It was a fairly nice night, for the time of year. At least it wasn't raining.

After a while I just sat and sipped my tea. I couldn't stand to look at the book anymore, so I just didn't. It probably wasn't the best way to deal with my problems. But it was about as much effort as I was willing to expend.

I kind of wished that the boy would show up back at the coffee shop and invite me back out. A look at my watch indicated that I could probably still catch him at the restaurant and that all would be forgiven if I could create a realistic enough excuse.

But I wasn't the type of girl that would just randomly go out with a boy like that! He was so going to have to earn it he wanted my company!

Then again, that philosophy had worked so well for me. You know, Daph, you're just doing fantastic for yourself. It's not like you're so pathetic that you spend all of your free time hanging out in a stupid coffee shop with teenagers. Nothing at all too embarrassing there.

And it's not like you had boys lining up and vying for your attention. Well, again, that weren't teenagers. What would mom have told you? Don't leave an offer of free dinner on the table, you never know what you'll find? Something like that.

Oh well, I probably screwed up. It happens.

And that's how my life was. It could have been better, I guess, but it also could have been considerably worse, I think. I did well enough on my tests that I ceased to be as worried about my future.

I settled back into my routine. I worked nights; I played our silly little game on weekends. I studied, I danced, and I tried to appear normal. But it didn't really help.

Friday night rolled around and we were exploring a desert, heading toward some new town and some sort of lost treasure of some type. I'll admit, I wasn't as interested in the story when we weren't in some sort of gothic inspired undead nightmare. Something about sand worms just wasn't as interesting as skeletons and zombies.

But I played my part well enough. Even if tonight that part consisted mostly of following others around and helping out here or there. My biggest contribution was probably going up and getting drinks for everyone in the group. Or the pan of brownies I'd brought in. There were only a few token remnants of those left.

I wasn't paying any attention to the patrons in the shop that night. Instead I was staring down at my stat sheet and trying to run through the numbers in my head. Everyone else seemed to have a fairly easy time figuring out exactly what they needed, but I was pretty terrible at it. And because of that I completely didn't notice when one of the patrons walked up behind us and started observing the game.

"Can I help you? Ian asked, looking up at the newcomer. I blinked, thinking that was part of the game, but didn't recall if we'd made it to an inn or anything. And then I saw him. He wasn't wearing the black coat this time, but his dark hair was stilly messy. He looked on curiously, scanning our entire group before his eyes rested on Ian.

"What are you playing?" he asked.

"Dungeons and Dragons," Matthew responded quickly. The patron nodded. Then he tilted his head to the side and asked.

"Need a fifth?" he nodded toward the empty chair next to me. For some reason none of the boys ever sat directly next to me. The must have just hated my perfume.

"We play every Friday and Saturday for four to five hours," Ian said sternly. "And we really don't appreciate if people miss time." I was surprised he was considering it. But he had mentioned wanting one more for our campaigns, so he could make them more complicated, or something. I shook my head a bit and hoped that Ian noticed it. He couldn't have known the patron had followed me out of the café a few nights before.

"I can probably manage that," he admitted after thinking for a few moments.

"And you've played before?" Ian asked. He nodded.

"A couple of times, yeah," he said.

"We'll you'll have to make a new character," Ian commented. "We're not going to take some absurd thing you made up here. And it won't be easy as the lowbie."

"That's fine," he said. He grabbed the chair next to me and sat down, looking around the table

"Well, I'm Ian," Ian said after a few moments. He passed a character sheet over toward the newcomer. "This is Nigel, or Torman the magic user, Matthew, or Ragthuk the barbarian, and Daphne, or Caelya the cleric." He nodded around the group as he introduced us. The boys nodded, I just sat there stiffly.

"A pleasure. I'm Harry," he said with a quick smile. "Or Volke, the thief," he handed the character sheet back toward Ian, who just took it and nodded.

"Well welcome aboard," Ian said. "I think it's time we got out of this desert. The sandy town was finally visible on the horizon." And I stopped listening and instead just looked at Harry. He didn't really look back at me. Instead he focused on Ian. And the night continued pretty much as normal.

As did the next couple of months. My classes ended, and before I knew it I only had one semester left of college. I was accepted into med school. So that was a plus. But I tried other things as well. I was still waiting for responses from law school and for graduate classes in Archaeology, but I was pretty sold on medical at that time.

And the boys started calling me Dr. Caelya. I kind of liked the ring to it.

Harry, true to his word, never missed a night. And the thief proved to be a very useful addition to our group. He was a clever little prick, too, and far more often than Ian liked would our devious little thief outsmarted him. He had an incredible knack for spotting traps. Almost as good of a knack as my cleric had for tripping them.

The newest member of our clique didn't socialize with me much. He mostly talked with the other boys. In fact, I don't think he ever really addressed me outside of the context of the game. It was a little strange, because we usually talked about life a little bit, but he just never joined in those conversations.

I mean, it wasn't like he wouldn't answer the questions if we asked him directly, but we usually didn't. So mostly the start of our night consisted of him sitting at the table and not really paying attention to anything while we chatted. But I guess it worked for him.

Typically we'd wrap up around three to four in the morning. We were playing a bit later during the holiday. No one in the group seemed to really mind. I know I didn't. It beat spending far too much time in a destroyed castle. Of course, I'd have probably found something to do that wasn't sleep, anyway.

Then I usually helped Derek with any minor things that were bothering him at that early hour. Typically a lot of it was making sure the breakfast items would be ready by the time the breakfast crowd rolled around.

After that I'd leave and begrudgingly head home, usually wondering why movie theaters weren't twenty-four hours as well, because that would have been a great thing to do at four in the morning.

But instead I found myself standing outside the café and wondering if I really wanted to go home and down some drugs before attempting to sleep. I sighed a bit and started walking when someone fell into step next to me.

"So do you just hate that bistro or?" Harry asked. I stopped walking immediately, pretty much because even if he was nice during the game sessions, I sure wasn't leading him directly to my apartment building.

"No, it's fine," I admitted, glaring at him a little bit.

"Then why didn't you show?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Because I don't just go out to dinner with random creepy men who invite me?" I answered, attempting to make it sound like it was a completely obvious answer that any idiot should have been able to come up with on his own.

"I'm not that creepy," he commented idly. At least he hadn't tried to defend random or man. Although I had better comebacks lined up for those.

"You hang out with teenagers on weeknights," I countered.

"So do you," he laughed.

"Yeah, but we all know I'm pathetic," I laughed a little as well. I suppose I should have thought of that angle before making the comment.

"Can't be that pathetic," he shrugged. "It is fun, after all."

"I guess," I said, trying to not sound too happy, for no apparent reason.

"So how about it, tomorrow night?" he asked with a gesture toward the bistro.

"No," I said without really thinking about it.

"Why not," he asked.

"Because you're still creepy," I said. "And I don't go out with creepy men."

"I thought we established I wasn't creepy," he said, tilting his head to the side.

"You may have established that. I certainly didn't agree with it."

"You know I'm just going to keep asking and asking and asking until you say yes," he said.

"I'm not going to say yes, so I don't advise wasting your breath," I commented.

"Well how can I become less creepy?" he asked.

"So you're admitting your creepy?" I countered.

"For argument's sake," he said, shaking his head but looking at me with a sort of bemused smile. I didn't like that expression. He suggested he knew me far better than he did. The little shake of his head gave the impression that he suspected my response. Like there was just too much familiarity. I don't know, I couldn't really place it, but it still bothered me to all hell.

"Well you never talk about yourself, or what you do, or your interests, or anything. Hell, I don't even know your surname" I said.

"You don't talk about yourself either," he responded. I rolled my eyes.

"Sure I do. They tease me all the time about dancing. And then all the med-school jokes," I said. "So everyone clearly knows what I do. But we have no idea what you do."

"Come to dinner and I'll tell you," he countered.

"That's not going to work," I said.

"Doesn't mean I'll stop trying," he smiled. "Now how about some Indian food tomorrow night?"

"Changing the venue is not going to change my response," I said.

"Perhaps."

"I'm going home now," I said sternly and I started walking off again. Thankfully he didn't follow me.

Harry was rather true to his word. He asked me out pretty much every time we met up to play the stupid game. He even came into the café once or twice during my shifts. He'd be perfectly personable, and just order himself some coffee or tea or something, then ask me as I handed it to him.

My answer never changed.

He didn't really mention it much when we actually played the game. Which was a little bit of a relief. He usually asked before or after, keeping the boys completely out of the equation, which I guess I appreciated.

Still I could tell they noticed. Nigel glared at him a bit more than usual, and Ian was rather mean to him now, too. Which just served to make me wonder a bit about the boys' intentions. I mean they'd been pleasant before, but now they just glared a lot at him. Harry didn't seem to notice. Or at least he didn't comment.

And that continued and spring rolled around. I shot him down almost on a daily basis. He'd even managed to find me at the dance studio a couple of times and ask there. Still my answer always remained exactly the same.

A couple of times he even got creative and found me on campus or at some place where I was eating lunch. He'd ask me if he could join me on those occasions, rather than just like sitting down. I'd say no, and he's just smile and leave.

Once I'd debated walking with him back to the café for the start of one of my earlier shifts, but when I'd turned to look at where he'd walked off to, he was nowhere to be found. So I just shrugged and walked myself.

And it never really changed. He never once sounded annoyed, or put out, or anything. Instead he just kept asking, day after day after day after day.

Even the boys started to find it more amusing than anything. They made fun of him for it.

Of course, part of me thinks that just spurred him on a bit. Because right about the point that the boys started to be a little more accepting of his continued attempts to garner my affections, or whatever he wanted to call it, Volke started flirting with Caelya.

I made out like a bandit though. Volke gifted me a new staff, and a new robe, as well as a bunch of potions. It was pretty fantastic.

But finally, it annoyed Ian a bit too much. After a few hours one night of Harry and the boys just pestering me into agreeing to some sort of a date he just shook his head and spoke up.

"Oh for fucks sake," Ian rolled his eyes. "Just roll for it." And everyone paused and looked at him.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Just roll for it. All of you. Volke has the most charisma, so anything above a fourteen and he gets a date, Ragthuk needs an 18, and Torman a sixteen. If you fail, stop asking. This is getting annoying," Ian ordered. Harry grabbed his dice almost immediately.

"This is ridiculous," I said, frowning.

"But it will make them shut up," Ian countered. The other three nodded a little bit in agreement. Harry had a silly smile on his face as he rolled his dice in his hand.

"What about my charisma," I frowned. "It's as high as Volke's."

"Fine, add two due to Caelya's charisma," I frowned, hoping I'd get a bit more of a bonus than that. Or, you know, avoiding the entire thing.

"Just roll," Ian rolled his eyes. I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I stared at my character sheet, trying to look for anything that could be construed as an advantage to toss out during their stupid challenge.

Rathuk rolled first. He rolled a three, so I wouldn't have to worry about treating Matthew to dinner one night. Of course, I doubted I'd live up to my end of this agreement, considering that I didn't agree to anything.

Torman rolled a twelve. That was two for two. Nigel would have been a slightly better choice for dinner than Matthew. He would have at least insisted on paying. I'd have not ordered anything expensive or eaten much, because I knew he was fairly broke, but it's the thought that counts.

And then Harry smiled a little bit. He looked over at me and shook his die in his hand. I frowned a little bit and just sat there, with my arms still crossed over my chest. He just looked at his hand for a moment, before turning his gaze back to me and tossing the die.

He didn't even bother to look at what he rolled. Matthew and Nigel groaned and I looked down toward the table. His red die rested on 19. I groaned a little bit and shook my head.

"Well," he smiled a little bit at me. I just frowned. "Sunday…"

"Sushi, five, place two blocks over. I have a test in the morning I'm not going to be out late." I spoke as sternly as I could. Harry looked a little surprised but didn't argue. Instead he just turned back to Ian and smiled. And our game continued.

I arrived at the restaurant shortly after they started their dinner service. I just walked in, ignored the Asian hostess, and moved straight to the sushi bar. I slung the messenger bag, a sleek black Prada my dad had gifted me the last Christmas, over my stool. I carried it rather than a purse most times I needed to have books with me. It worked out well enough.

I took my Euripides out of the bag and got started on _Elektra_. The classical tragedy class was probably the last Classics class I'd take, and I was rather enjoying it. Although I think I may have been the only one that liked Aeschylus more than Euripides. Either way, the plays didn't take that long to get through.

I ordered some green tea and told the sushi guy that I was waiting for someone. He nodded and fetched me some tea and found me a menu while I waited. I didn't even bother to open it. Instead I just read while I waited.

At around ten to five he sat down next to me. He didn't say anything when he sat down, but moments later someone approached to take his order. He ordered a Kirin Light and just waited for me to close the book. I was tempted to just not. Part of me was rather amused by the thought of just reading through the entire dinner. But I wasn't that rude.

"Hello," I said quietly, leaning to my side to put the book back into my bag.

"Good evening, Daphne," he responded. A moment later his beer showed up. He waved away the glass and just took a sip from the bottle.

"How are you?" I asked stiffly. I took a long sip of my tea, too, as he responded.

"Fine," he smiled a little bit. "Yourself?"

"I'd be better if I was studying," I said.

"You've had plenty of time to do that all weekend," he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"I was doing things for fun all weekend," I responded.

"Campaign is getting tedious," Harry sighed. I just glared at him.

"I think it's fun," I scoffed. He shrugged a little bit.

"Ian is predictable," he said. "We do a lot of the same shit. I kind of want to do something flat out absurd and see what he does."

"If you insist," I responded emotionlessly. I took another sip of my tea and didn't bother looking toward him. "No one asked you to play."

"Well I had to find a way to talk to you," he laughed. "Went and bought all the books Ian had in front of him after first running into you."

"The best way to talk to someone is usually, you know, just talking to them," I scoffed. I found it a bit of a stretch that he'd go and learn the entire game just to talk to me.

"I tried that, you told me that you'd call the police if I followed you."

"Following and talking are two different things."

"I would have had to follow to keep talking," he sighed. I guess he had a point, but I didn't feel like trying to argue logically.

"Well how are you?" I asked, doing my best to change the subject.

"I hate sushi," he said quietly. I smiled a little bit.

"No one asked you to come," I countered with the argument that I'd just used.

"I won this," he laughed.

"Hardly," I said.

"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have bothered showing up," he said.

"Maybe I just wanted free sushi," I commented right back.

"If you just wanted free anything you'd have suggested sushi long ago," he laughed.

"Okay fine, maybe I just needed some dice karma," I rolled my eyes. I was rapidly running out of excuses. Although I suppose they didn't really need to be good excuses.

"You are amazingly difficult," he laughed. I just nodded.

"Well this was your idea," I said.

"No, the absurdly early sushi dinner was your idea," he teased. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"I like sushi. And I'll be in bed by like nine, so it's not that early," I said.

"Nine? That's absurdly early," he laughed.

"Well I don't sleep much. And I want to attempt to be rested for my exam."

"Why don't you sleep much?" he shifted his stool to the side a bit so he could look at me while he spoke.

"None of your business?" I responded. It wasn't supposed to come out like as much of a question as it did.

"Alright then," he sighed. Then he just shook his head and frowned a little bit. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I should go," he said. And for a moment, I thought that perhaps he meant he would leave far more than the restaurant. And a part of me didn't want to be responsible for his leaving the group.

"I'm sorry," I frowned. "I'm not very personable."

"Oh, you can be charming when you want to be," he laughed. "I've seen it."

"When?" I asked, feeling a tad baffled by that. I didn't remember ever being particularly charming around him.

"Oh, uhm, when you're dealing with customers," he responded. But it seemed like he just thought of it on the spot. And I was pretty sure that whenever he stopped by the café when I was working, it had been pretty much empty.

"That's hardly charming," I scoffed. He just shrugged.

"Can we start over?" he asked.

"Have we started?" I laughed. It was a better response than just telling him I wanted absolutely no part of him and that he should go away.

"I guess not," he sighed. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Daphne Greengrass," I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of his introducing himself. But hey, at least now I knew his last name. "Nice to meet you, Potter." Somehow calling him by his last name seemed more fitting.

"Please don't call me Potter," he laughed.

"Why not? I think it sounds better than Harry," I teased.

"Well I don't," he frowned. "Would you like it if someone called you Greengrass all the time?"

"Indifferent," I responded.

"No way," he said.

"I really don't care," I said. "Although it would be odd during sex."

"Yes, yes it would," he blushed and looked away. A waitress took that moment to ask if we'd come to a decision on anything. Harry just frowned and looked at me, so I grabbed one of the sushi cards and marked a few things and handed it to the waitress.

"So not a sushi fan?" I asked.

"Not really. My friend Hermione loves it. She keeps trying to get me to like it, but I just don't," he said. I narrowed my eyes when he spoke. Something about the name Hermione really rubbed me the wrong way. But it could have just been because I was reading far too much classical tragedy in the last few months.

"Well it's awesome," I said.

"What did you order?" he asked.

"Some Hamachi nigiri, a sashimi platter, and some spicy tuna rolls," I responded.

"Interesting," was all he managed in response. I just sat there for a few seconds before I changed the subject

"So what do you do, Potter?" I asked. He just shrugged

"I dabble," he said.

"Dabble?" I laughed.

"Yes."

"What does dabbling entail?"

"A little of this and a little of that?" he shrugged.

"You realize I'm just going to keep asking, right?" I said.

"And that will probably work as well for you as it did for me," he countered.

"Now you're just being vindictive," I frowned.

"No. Just mysterious. I assure you 'dabbling' sounds a lot more entertaining than what I actually do."

"So tell me anyway. I go to school. It's boring. Dabbling has to be better than that."

"I don't know. Medical school has to be fun."

"Medical school doesn't start until the fall. Just regular school now."

"My mistake," he said.

"So, dabbler," I said.

"Mostly I just do whatever I want," he sighed. "I inherited a lot of money."

"Lucky you," I laughed.

"I guess," he sighed. "I'd have rather known my parents."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's alright. How about you?"

"I work in a café. It doesn't pay well, but the hours are flexible," I responded dryly, as he already knew the answer to the question.

"No. You're parents," he laughed.

"Oh. My dad's a doctor. My mom died a few years back."

"I'm sorry," he said. "How?"

"Heart attack, they thought," I shrugged. It didn't really make sense. She'd been healthy, but there wasn't really a coherent cause of death. It was like her heart just stopped for no real reason. I missed her, a lot.

"That's awful," he said quietly.

"She was a doctor too," I said. "But she did a lot more research stuff. I think when I get through med school that's something I'll attempt."

"Research?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded. "Something about the idea of being in a less bloody environment appeals to me."

"I can understand that," he laughed. "But seems like a bit of an odd thing to do after spending so long in school."

"Well I don't mind the thought of working in a hospital," I admitted. "Or an ER or ICU. It's just that I think I'd be good at it. I've always been fairly good at diagnosing problems and finding a solution," I shrugged. I realized I was saying far more than I wanted to in this conversation, so I just stopped speaking.

"Well I hope that works out for you," he said as he took another sip of his beer. He wasn't a very fast drinker, but I wondered if that was simply because I wasn't drinking alcohol and he didn't want to seem like too much of a lush.

"So do I get more information on dabbling now?" I asked.

"No," he responded with a cheeky smile.

"You're absolutely no fun," I said.

"I get that," he responded.

"So you're telling me that you just pretty much laze around and do absolutely nothing and live off of the money your parents left you?" I asked.

"That about sums it up," he admitted, smiling a bit more cheerfully that I felt was appropriate considering the tone I'd just used.

"Well, that's very unattractive," I admitted. "Nothing like a hopeless veg to bore me to tears. Christ, who do you think I am, my sister?"

"Your sister?" he asked.

"I have a younger sister," I said. "She's dating this jackass I can't stand who lives in his parents' manor and acts like he's better than everyone."

"Sounds fun," Harry laughed. "What's his name?"

"Theodore," I responded quickly, as if spitting it off my tongue as fast as humanly possible was the absolute best way to deal with saying it.

"Lame name," Harry commented idly. I just nodded.

"And being comparable to him certainly doesn't help your cause."

"What's my cause?"

"You're a mid-twenties male. I'm assuming you want to fuck me," I said as bluntly as I could.

"Wouldn't mind," he countered while taking a sip of his beer. It certainly wasn't the answer I suspected. "But don't you think I'm putting forth a little too much effort to just be trying to sleep with you?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Men our weird. They put forth effort into really random things." But before he could respond our food arrived. I grabbed my chopsticks and dug in, applying ample amounts of wasabi to every piece of fish. He just watched me eat for a few moments before he begrudgingly tried some. He didn't look particularly happy with my choices but he swallowed it down.

Eventually, after I was partially sated, I went back to conversation.

"Well regardless, you're not getting in my pants if all you do is laze around," I said.

"Well, how would I get into your pants then, if we're having this conversation?"

"Being more interesting would help," I said. He just shrugged a bit.

"But what if I'm not interesting?" He asked.

"Then you're going to have a problem. Although I refuse to believe you're as boring as you've described." I watched him attempt to use the chopsticks for a few moments. It was amusing as he fumbled with one of the rolls. "And you know it's perfectly acceptable to use your fingers when eating sushi."

"Quiet," he said as he got the roll into his mouth with quite a bit more effort. I laughed a little at his attempts.

"So what do you do?" I asked. He just shrugged again.

"Honestly, Daphne, not much. I do a little bit of freelance writing. Travel pieces mostly, but I didn't really keep up with that nearly as much as I should have. Mostly I'd travel somewhere and just stay there, for months. I'd forget to actually write the piece on it."

"I suspect that would cost you your job," I said. He just shrugged.

"Surprisingly no. I never really hard a hard deadline. And the owner of the paper I wrote for loved me, so it worked out," he spoke after finishing off his beer. When the waitress asked if he wanted another he shook her off and ordered a soda.

"So you're just a lazy writer?" I laughed a little bit.

"Not really. I told you, half the time I'd forget to actually write the piece. And I'm a terrible writer, so it wouldn't be any good anyway. Just for some reason people were interested in where I was, what I was doing and why," he shrugged a little bit.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Never really figured that one out," he admitted.

"So you're a semi-famous lazy bad writer?" I laughed.

"Sure," he said with a smile. "I guess that's as accurate as it can possibly be."

"Well I think you were right," I said.

"About what?"

"Just being a lazy lay about inheritor was a more interesting story," I teased. It wasn't really, but that didn't matter.

"Told you," he laughed a little bit.

"Well, what do you want to do? It sounds like you're capable of finding something that entertains you," I asked.

"Right now I want to go on another date with you," he smiled.

"You are so lame," I said.

"So what are you doing on Wednesday?" he asked with a little smirk.

"Working," I responded.

"Thursday?"

"Working,"

"Tuesday?"

"Homework."

"Tuesday it is," he smiled. "Eight o'clock, French place?"

"No," I said.

"What if I roll for it?" he asked.

"Still no," I laughed.

"Worth a shot," he sighed.

"Well," I sighed after another minute. "I'm going to go home now."

"Before I've even paid?" he laughed.

"I have studying to do," I said.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No," I said. He just shook his head and laughed at me.

"Fine, you can bail on me, Daphne. But only if you agree to bail on me again before the check comes on Tuesday."

"You're inviting me out on the condition that I bail on you?" I laughed.

"I figured you've earned the right to do it at least twice," he smiled. It was the annoying smile he had again, the one that seemed to know far more than it let on. I just shook my head.

"Fine, but I also may read through dinner, so just deal with it," I commented, crossing my arms over my chest for a moment. At least before I stood and swung my bag over my shoulder.

"Eight o'clock." He just smiled more and I rolled my eyes and walked out of the sushi restaurant.

I showed up that time. And we had a nice meal. We left together that night, but I didn't invite him home with me. I didn't even go home, really. I went to the café and had a cup of tea, just so he wouldn't have any interest in following me. I think he probably would have joined me for the tea, though, had I offered.

But I didn't offer, because I wanted to be left alone to my own devices to think about things. At least that's what I told myself as I sat and drank the tea.

Harry didn't really talk to me much over the coming weekend. He joined in our games as normal. When the boys teased us about the date Harry just shrugged it off and made some fairly innocent comments. It was nice of him.

Of course, everything about the few hours we spent together was innocent, so I suppose that shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did.

In summary, though, nothing really changed. My routine stayed pretty much exactly the same for a few more weeks. At least until one Friday evening a few weeks later.

On that night, Harry asked me out once more. I didn't say no. But I didn't say yes, either. I told him I'd think about it. But by the time Saturday evening rolled around I just told him I'd be free on Wednesday and we decided to meet for Chinese.

It was uneventful, but fun. I took far more home than I probably should have. But it was always nice to have something that you could just heat up while you were supposed to be studying. That alone made life amazingly easier.

I let him walk me home that night. But I didn't invite him up, and he didn't ask. He just wished me a good night and wandered off down the street as I walked into my building.

The next week we met for Indian food. I didn't take any home that time. Mostly because I ate it all in the restaurant. I didn't have to study that night, and so we sat at our table and drank tea until they kicked us out of the restaurant. He'd asked if I wanted to go to a café after, but I'd had enough chamomile that I was actually feeling a little exhausted. So I went home and went to bed.

Interestingly enough, I lived that night. I was still stuck in an ancient castle. I couldn't find anything that remotely resembled an exit. But nothing attacked me. And I think that was a small victory of some sort. Hey, I took what I could get.

But that routine continued. Every Wednesday we went out. He always paid, which I probably shouldn't have let him do, but he didn't ever make a comment about it or seem to mind. In fact, he just looked at me funny the one time that I took out my purse. So I put it away, but didn't comment.

Part of me really didn't just want to give up a good thing. So I never pressed the issue. And going out with him became rather fun. We'd just talk about stuff. Usually what I was doing in school or current events. But, on occasion, the topics would change to things like books or movies or even music.

Harry did a lot more listening than talking. But I never felt like he wasn't paying attention, or interested in the conversation. So that was a nice. And I found I liked just sort of yammering on while he listened. It was soothing, in a way.

Still I learned a fair bit about him. He never knew his parents, which was sad. And he grew up with his relatives. He didn't talk about them much. I got the feeling that he didn't really have the best feelings for them. But he did imply that he went to lunch with his cousin once every couple of months, so I suppose the relationship couldn't be that bad.

He spent most of his teen years at a boarding school in Scotland. He claimed to have had pretty good grades, despite never making an attempt at university.

He claimed to have watched his godfather die in some sort of accident. And that had a rather lasting effect on him. He said he didn't really want to talk about it, and I didn't press because I had plenty of stuff I didn't want to talk about.

But as time passed and I got a bit busier with finals it became more difficult to fit him into my schedule. I should have probably tried harder. I didn't, though, and instead I wound up canceling on him a couple of weeks in a row.

It was on the third such week that I texted him rather late Wednesday afternoon and commented that I couldn't make it. He never really responded to texts. I'm not sure he even knew how. Hell, when I met him he didn't even have a mobile. I found that a little strange, but I suppose it wasn't overly uncommon.

He got one, though, after I railed on him enough about not having a phone. But I didn't ever really see him use it. He answered if I called, but he never actually called me. I didn't mind that, I preferred to initiate conversations anyway.

I was a bit sad to cancel on him, too. We were planning on trying this new Thai place that just opened and I thought it looked absolutely fantastic. But it could wait until next week. Although that was the middle of my exam week. Maybe it would have to be two.

So mostly I just trudged through the rain and thought about what exam I should study for and how I probably should have let my house with an umbrella that morning. But I never really thought that far ahead. And it had been mostly sunny in the morning. But that never really mattered in London.

But I was pretty much just completely lost in thought when I entered the lobby of my building. I certainly didn't expect to see him sitting in the lobby with a large pack.

"Do I need to call the police?" I asked. It had become a bit of a running joke between us.

"Probably," he said. "There's a creepy man waiting for you in the lobby."

"Well I should run away then," I said.

"Oh yes," he nodded solemnly and I just laughed.

"Didn't you get my text?" I asked. I felt bad enough having to bail on him through emotionless text. Having to do it a second time, to his face, would be a bit irritating.

"Yes," he said.

"So why are you here?" I asked.

"Because I know how you eat when you study and it is very far from healthy," he commented. I frowned a little bit and looked at him.

"Hey now. But I really do need to study," I sighed.

"I'm sure you do. Which is why I'm going to make you dinner. You're more than welcome to read while I cook, study while you eat, and otherwise ignore my presence completely," he explained with a smile.

"So what like Maid Potter?" I laughed.

"Chef Potter, I'm not cleaning anything," he countered.

"Fine," I sighed as I worked my way to the elevator. He followed with a little smile on my face. It wasn't until I got into the elevator that I realized he'd wormed his way up to my apartment.

I just hit the twelve on the wall and frowned. Clever of him, really. But I was a sucker for the offer of a home cooked meal.

I stepped out before him as the elevator door opened. I took a right and moved to the last unit in the hallway, or my home.

It wasn't much. I'm sure he probably had better lodgings with his inherited fortune. But he'd never invited me back there. In fact, I wasn't really that sure where he lived. I just assumed somewhere in the city, but I suppose he could have traveled in. I just didn't think that likely.

Anyway, home was a one bedroom, one and a half bath apartment. It had a fairly decent sized kitchen and an attached living area. The bedroom and the full bath were tucked into the back corner. I had a pretty good view of the city, but it wasn't anything too special. It was perhaps a little messy, but I preferred the term 'lived in.'

Thankfully, I didn't really have anything too absurd. There wasn't any food sitting out and rotting. My most heinous offense was likely the pair of jeans I had drying on the kitchen table. But I hadn't wanted them to shrink! Of course the door to my bedroom was closed, and that was considerably messier than the living area of my apartment.

Harry didn't comment on anything though. In fact, he pretty much ignored me and moved into the kitchen. I sat down on the couch in the living area, mostly because I'd set up some of my books there before I'd gone out. And, after paging through a notebook, I remembered just where I needed to study.

Part of me paused for a moment and waited. I just suspected that after about ten seconds I'd either smell fire, or have to go and show him where stuff was. Neither came to fruition, though, and eventually I just lost myself studying.

And sure, there was the occasional clang of pots and pans, but it wasn't like my kitchen was overly organized. So that was to be expected. It didn't take too long for me to start smelling the chicken though. And I hadn't eaten all day, which just made it all the better.

I hit a button on my iPod dock and then set it to shuffle. I had it set really quiet so I could barely hear it as I started reading. Most of my music was instrumental stuff and it was soothing. It helped me study, but it didn't really help me sleep, which was disappointing.

I focused on my books and notes then. After a few moments I switched to scanning through study guides and previous assignments and tests. I focused on the parts I got wrong before reviewing the things that I got right. I went back and forth for a few moments, and found that I was having trouble focusing.

I think it may have had something to do with the fact that there was a relatively strange man making food in my kitchen. That was new for me, I have to admit. I pressed my lips together and then chewed on my bottom one for a moment. I wasn't really sure what to do. Typically boys and my apartment didn't really end well for either of us.

Suffice to say, I wound up sitting on the couch with my arms across my chest rather than actually studying. If I failed my test tomorrow I was going to murder him.

"Food," he said after a while. I frowned a little bit as I stood and moved toward the kitchen. He was standing by the stove but had set my small little table. Technically, it could seat four people, but I'd never tried and I suspected it wouldn't work out too flawlessly if I attempted it.

I sat at the far spot on the table, mostly to keep myself as far away from him as I could. He'd already set out two glasses of wine and two glasses of water. I sipped the water. I was a tad surprised he'd brought alcohol. I never drank when we went out, and I tried to keep myself away from alcohol.

In my mind, I'd over indulged a few times when trying to cope with my nightly rituals. It hadn't affected me too badly, but I didn't want to really go back down that path. So instead I just glared at the wonderfully dark liquid and sipped the water instead.

Moments later he turned away from the stove, pulling a full chicken out of it and resting it on the counter. He then took out some rolls and a massive assortment of vegetables. I looked away after a few moments because I felt like too much of a voyeur.

But moments later he just put a large plate in front of me. It contained five rather generous slices of chicken, a mass of cooked carrots and broccoli, and a baked potato. I blinked down at it a little bit and picked up my fork as he went to grab the crescent rolls.

I at least had enough decorum to wait until he started to eat to eat myself. He didn't really say anything through the meal. And I ate pretty much everything he put on the plate. I probably should have been a bit more careful about what I gorged down. But I liked food.

"Don't like the wine?" he asked after a few moments. I noticed his glass was empty and he'd gone to get the bottle to refill it. But he'd stopped when he looked at mine.

"I don't really drink," I said. He looked at me curiously.

"Not even a glass of wine with meals?" he asked, and I just shrugged.

"Not usually," I said stiffly.

"Well it's an excellent vintage," he commented, pouring himself another glass. "At least give it a sip."

"Fine," I sighed. I lifted my own glass carefully by the stem and twirled it just a little bit. After a brief pause I took a sip of it. It tasted pretty excellent, he was right. But all I did for the rest of the dinner was sip it. And I limited myself to one glass, drinking most of it while he cleaned up the dishes.

"Do you want to keep some of the leftovers?" he asked. I frowned a little bit. I did, because it was delicious, but that seemed a little needy for me. Still, the stomach won.

"Sure. I have some containers under the sink," I sighed. He just nodded and commenced with packaging everything up. It took him surprisingly little time to clean up. He seemed to be able to do about six things at once.

When he finished I just moved back to the couch with my glass of water and resumed studying. Harry looked at me for a few moments before he sat next to me on the couch. He looked at what I was reading, but didn't comment.

After a few moments I just handed him the remote to the TV and turned off my iPod. He turned on some returns of an old time-travel show that was easily ignored as I focused on my studies.

And we stayed like that for a couple of hours before I yawned a little bit and decided I didn't really want him there anymore.

"I'm tired," I lied with a glance at my bedroom door.

"Okay," he said a little bit. He turned off the TV and looked back at me.

"So you're leaving," I said. He frowned a little bit but nodded.

"Okay," he said. And I stood and walked toward the exit of my apartment. He followed.

"I trust you can find your way out of the building?" I smiled. He just nodded a little bit.

"I wouldn't think that overly challenging," he responded.

"Shouldn't be," I smiled. "Thanks for dinner. I do appreciate it."

"Anytime," he smiled. "Good luck on with your exam." And he stepped out of my door. I nodded and shut it as he left. I went back to studying as soon as he left. And strangely, I missed his presence. So I turned on the TV and watched the show he'd been viewing instead.

I ended up acing the test. Despite the fact that I didn't bother studying for it for the rest of the evening. Somehow I felt like I'd already taken the test, or at least something fairly similar. So I just blew through it, checked my work a few times, and left the class surprisingly early. It was a rather pleasant experience.

And the rest of that week passed, and then a few more. And as it warmed up I started to spend a bit more time outside. Mostly I'd just go and sit in parks rather than the café while I did my reading. But it was a nice change. Despite the fact that I'd grow sick of it in a few months.

I was hanging in a park when my phone buzzed from my purse. I pulled it out and saw a text from Harry. It was a Friday night and Ian was sick so our game was canceled. I'd texted him earlier to inform him of that. His response was a simple acknowledgment of my text. I gazed skyward after reading it, noticing the clouds were rolling in. It had been a warm day, but I suspected there'd be some pretty serious storms that evening.

So I decided about that point that I was probably better served by not spending the rest of the evening in the park. I stood and started walking in the general direction of both my apartment and the café. I didn't even realize my phone was still in my hand until it buzzed. I nearly dropped it onto the sidewalk. I flipped it open.

The words 'Let's go on a date' hovered under the word 'Potter' on my display. I shook my head and laughed a little bit. I responded that I was rather affronted to be asked out via text message. Moments later he replied that we went out weekly, to which I just responded that never before had it been titled a date. And that any self-respecting boy would ask me out in far more than a text.

And a couple of seconds later my phone started buzzing in my hand.

"Hello?" I said, hitting the green button that answered calls.

"Daphne," Harry's voice ran through. His cell got terrible reception, he always buzzed a little bit as he spoke.

"Yes Harry?" I asked.

"Do you want to go on date with me this evening?" he asked. I was really tempted to just say no and hang up the phone. But I usually at least was out on Friday nights, and having my routine plans fall through made me feel a bit boring.

"That depends on what you had in mind," I said. "I really don't want to go sit at the pub with you and your friends. I always feel like I'm completely missing something when that happens."

"How about something far more romantic?" he laughed. I frowned a bit, but part of me thought that sounded like a better option anyway.

"Depends on what it is," I said. He just nodded.

"I'll be in your lobby in two hours. Wear something sexy," he said teasingly. I rolled my eyes.

"Flannel shirt it is," I responded and hung up. And I walked back to my apartment. I frowned a little bit when I walked to it. I didn't think I really had anything sexy. I sure never, ever, got dressed up. So that was a disturbing thought.

I dug through my closet, throwing stuff every which way and attempting to find something. Eventually I found a dark purple dress that I was supposed to wear for some party Astoria invited me and dad to at Theodore's house. But it ended up being on a Friday so I didn't go. I used my patented study excuse. But I'd bought the dress incase my excuse didn't work.

It was short and had a ruffled skirt and I thought probably a little silly when I bought it. But it reminded me of something a Disney princess would wear when going for a little more casual look, so I figured it would work.

Once I'd picked out the outfit I went through the typical get ready routine. I showered, changed, put on makeup, organizing a matching purple purse, and all that jazz. I was actually ready before I was supposed to be. But that would never do I waited around so I'd be a few moments late when I wandered down to the lobby. He was waiting, dressed nicely in fancy jeans and a button-up shirt. He had an umbrella in his hand although it didn't appear to be raining outside.

"Evening," he said, trying to sound very formal.

"Hi," I said, making no attempt to sound formal.

"How are you?" he laughed, abandoning the attempt to sound formal.

"Peachy," I responded. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he smiled and then took my hand and led me out of the building.

And he took me to some absurdly expensive restaurant. I was underdressed, he was underdressed, and we really had no business being there. But he got us in and seated at a small, private table in the corner with little more than a smile.

But it didn't seem like he knew anyone. So I had no idea how the hell he managed to make everyone so nice to a couple of underdressed twenty-somethings. But whatever he did worked. I'd heard the name of the restaurant before, too, somewhere. But I couldn't place it.

So instead I didn't bother. I enjoyed an absurdly expensive meal and even drank about half a bottle of wine. I know, I'm a total lush.

Dessert was the best part. I will freely admit that. And I ate all of mine and probably half of his. And was tempted to order another one while we sipped tea afterwards. But I didn't. Which was probably a really stupid thing to do, all things considering. He paid without comment when our check finally showed up and then we left.

We emerged into the rain. He opened the umbrella and held it over the both of us. It wasn't very large and it forced me to walk incredibly close to him. I didn't mind that much. It didn't provide us as much protection as either of us would have liked. And it wasn't long before I'd likely ruined my shoes and could feel the dress clinging to me.

We probably should have gotten a cab, but I always complained about them and said I liked to walk. He didn't even ask this time, but my answer wouldn't have changed. I'm stubborn that way.

Regardless, it didn't take that long to walk back to my apartment. We stood and dripped in the lobby for a few moments before I looked at him and frowned.

"Do you want to come up for some tea to warm up?" I asked. He looked at me for a moment.

"No that's oka-actually. I'd love to," he smiled a little bit. And here I couldn't believe that he almost turned me down. Of course, I wasn't really thinking about the possible connotations of my words.

"Alright," I said and we dripped our way to the elevator and then to my apartment. I immediately walked into my bedroom. He followed me, which was slightly presumptuous, if you ask me, but I didn't notice.

"You look like your freezing," I said as I looked at him. The rain had been cold, but it wasn't that chilly of an evening. Still, he was shivering a little as he stood there.

"A little," he laughed. I nodded.

"The shower is right through there, if you want. I can probably find some dry clothes and toss yours into the dryer," I said.

"Okay," he said, staring at me for a few moments. "But you go first. You must be freezing too."

"I'm fine," I said. "I actually kind of like being cold."

"What?" he laughed. He looked completely shocked at my statement. I just shrugged.

"Never minded it really," I said. He just blinked at me. "I'll change while you're showering and leave something on the bed for you."

"Alright," he said, shaking his head a little more. I walked over toward my dresser and started rifling through it for clothing. I found some pajamas to change into. I left my bedroom and changed quickly. When I heard the shower start running I wandered back in and looked through the dresser for something for him. I found some oversized sweatpants and a red t-shirt with a horse flanked by the letters S and F. I left them on the bed and walked back toward my kitchen to prepare some tea.

About twenty minutes later he emerged from my bedroom wearing the clothing I'd left out. He had his wet stuff with him and looked over at me.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, gesturing to what he was wearing. I got down a cup for him and waited for him to pick out which tea he wanted. He walked over toward me, placing his damp clothing on the kitchen table.

"Don't remember on the pants. An ex got me the shirt when he was going to drag me to some event," I said. I pushed the box of assorted teas toward him and moved over to the table to gather up his clothing.

"How long were you with him?" he asked

"Who says it was a him?" I teased. I really didn't like talking about my past relationships. If they could even be called relationships.

"A girl would have bought you a shirt your size," he commented dryly. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Probably," I admitted. "I think that one was about two weeks."

"And all you got was this damn t-shirt?" he laughed.

"Pretty much," I said.

"That common for you?" he asked.

"Judging from my track record you've got about eight more days before you hate me," I said.

"We've been going out for months," he laughed.

"We've had one date. I rarely get to four," I smiled as coquettishly as I could. He just shrugged and picked an earl gray out of the pack. He poured himself some water and I presume started making his tea. I moved his clothing over toward the dryer. It was down the hall a bit, just outside my half bath. I leaned over it to grab a sheet of Bounce and then tossed it all in the dryer. I turned and walked back toward him.

"Well, I'm sure I'll get at least five," he smirked. His had was tilted to the side and he was holding his tea in one hand while he looked at me. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Were you just staring at my ass?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes," he said, nodding his affirmation at the same time.

"Pleasant view?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," he said, sipping his tea. I picked my own cup up and did the same.

"Well I'm glad that you enjoyed," I said. I kept my voice as toneless as possible. He could figure out whether or not it had amused me.

"I'm sure you are," he laughed. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What's this?" he said, holding up a glass box that I recognized readily enough. It spent the vast majority of time on my dresser.

"Just grabbing stuff out of my room now?" I teased.

"Well it intrigued me," he said. He placed the box carefully on the counter before opening it. He held its contents carefully in his fingertips as he looked at me.

"It's my magic wand," I said dumbly.

"Really?" he said, without a hint of humor.

"Really," I said. "Mom gave it to me a few days before she died, actually."

"So you're a witch?" he laughed, pointing it at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey now, don't make fun of me," I scoffed. It had a lot of sentimental value.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't really look it.

"It's important to me," I said. "It's the last thing my mother gave me. She told me to always look for the magic in the world."

"I see," Harry said. He offered it to me. I took it and held it tightly in my hand.

"Does it work?" he asked with a little bit of a smile.

"Of course not," I scoffed. He didn't seem to understand the not making fun of me bit. "It's a freakin' stick."

"Try it out," he smiled. I rolled my eyes.

"Abra Kadabra," I said lazily, pointing the stick at him. Naturally, nothing happened.

"Damn," he frowned. "Magic would have been cool."

"Yes, it would have been," I sighed. I put the stick back in the glass display box and decided to move out to the living room. I don't think I swayed my hips any more than usual. But I could have been wrong.

"Well you have forty minutes until your clothing is dry," I said after a few silent moments. He wandered around and joined me on the couch. He looked at me, for just a second, with a sort of longing in his eyes. But it wasn't the type of longing I'd expected. For a moment, I thought he actually thought something would happen when he handed me the wand. But when he spoke, he completely changed the subject.

"Got any movies?" he laughed.

"That's so longer than forty minutes," I commented.

"Going to kick me out when my pants are dry?" he teased.

"Probably," I nodded.

"Ouch," he said.

"Just find something to watch," I laughed.

"Okay," he said. And then he grabbed me and pulled me to him on the couch, so I was laying with my back against his chest. "Found something."

"Wow you are lame," I laughed.

"You're freezing," he said.

"I'm fine," I sighed. Like I said, every time someone touched me it was always their first reaction.

"Want me to go draw you a bath? Warm you up?" he asked. Interestingly I wasn't as annoyed by the comment as I should have been.

"Now you're just trying to get me naked," I sighed.

"Maybe a little," he admitted. His arms slid around my waist and he just held me. "But you are a little cold."

"I'm fine," I sighed. I closed my eyes and just leaned against him. He didn't say anything. He did tilt his head down into my hair. But mostly we just rested like that. I probably dozed off, because a few moments later I jolted up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. He sounded rather surprised.

"Yeah, fine," I said. I could tell I was blushing. It was embarrassing. Nothing like bad dreams you can't even remember!

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "You should go."

"What? Why? And my clothing is still in your dryer." He had a point there, I guess.

"Well I'm going to bed," I said. "So you're leaving." And I jolted off the couch and fled to my bedroom. I knew I shouldn't have just left him in my living room. Despite how stern my words had been, I had no certainty that he'd actually leave. But I really didn't want to wake up screaming with him holding me. That would scare him off for sure. And I didn't want to scare him off.

I got into bed and curled up with the blankets and tried not to think about him. I didn't work though. I thought about him. And then my bedroom door opened. And I did my best not to not look at him, and to fake being asleep. But it didn't work. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he walked toward my dresser. That was creepy enough. I couldn't imagine what he'd want to do with my clothing.

But he didn't open any of the drawers. Instead he just put the glass case he'd taken earlier back on top, precisely where it had been before. Nice of him, I suppose. I'd forgotten he'd grabbed it. After a few moments of just standing around he spoke.

"So, uhm, what was that?" he asked. I didn't move, or answer. After a few more moments of silence he sighed. "You're not asleep. Tell me what's wrong, Daph."

"Nothing's wrong," I said meekly. "Go home."

"Uh-huh," he said. "Now tell me what's wrong." And he walked over toward the bed. After a moment he sat down on the end of it.

"I'm going to scare you off if you stay," I said quietly.

"Well you're doing a decent job of that as is," he tried to tease. It didn't work and I wasn't really in the mood.

"So leave," I said.

"Nope," he said. "Now what's up?"

"Nothing," I said quietly.

"You realize that's not going to work, right?" he said. I just nodded.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"So, why do you want me out of here so badly?" he asked. "What do you like turn into a werewolf at midnight?"

"No," I scoffed. "And it has to be at least one by now."

"One seventeen," he responded with a glance at the clock, although we both knew that the time was a complete irrelevancy.

"Well I don't appear to have any excess hair," I scoffed.

"Not that I can tell," he said.

"Pavor nocturnus," I said.

"Et tu Brute?" he countered giving me the indication that all he recognized was the Latin.

"Night terrors," I said quietly. He just shrugged a little bit.

"Isn't that usually just with kids?" he asked.

"Most commonly," I sighed. "But I have them. I remember them, which is unusual. And it's nearly nightly."

"I see," he said quietly.

"I bolt upright, screaming," I said. "If anyone's around I pretty much attack them. I usually have the same dream. I'm trying to run away from the ruins of a castle. When I wake up I'm violent."

"Like how you bolted upright on the couch?" he asked.

"Pretty much," I said. "Usually there's more screaming and flailing."

"And you're afraid that will freak me out," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Well that's silly," he said. I rolled my eyes a little bit. "Now move over."

"Excuse me?" I said as he pulled the covers back on the bed.

"Move over," he said again.

"What are you doing?" I gasped. I was lying on my back in pretty much the middle of the bed.

"I'm tired," he sighed. "So I'm going to bed."

"Sleep on the couch!" I ordered. "Or even better, go home to your own bed."

"Comfortable," he said as he rested under the covers. A moment later he rolled onto his side, then grabbed me and pulled me against him. So my back pressed to his chest.

"Potter!" I gasped.

"Quiet," he said. "Trying to sleep." And I just fumed. But I shut up. So at the very least he had that going for him. But I couldn't help but think this was a terrible idea. Something was going to happen. I'd hurt him, somehow, during the night, and he'd never want to speak to me again. So I did just about the only thing I could think of to do. I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

I didn't dream.

When I woke the sun was shining through my windows. It was one of the most annoying features of my apartment. The sun beat straight through the windows in the morning and made it about a million degrees.

I was on my stomach and I was on top of something. I lifted my head up and saw Potter smiling down at me. I groaned a little bit, but still felt completely exhausted.

"What time is it?" I yawned a little, resting my head back down on his chest. It was more comfortable that way. I doubted it was much past sunrise, as I never really slept for long.

"Around eleven thirty," he said.

"What?" I gasped. "And I didn't attack you?"

"Well we may have wrestled a bit, but I'm tough," he said dryly. I blinked a little bit.

"Are you teasing me?" I asked.

"You are the one that has me pinned," he said. I rolled my eyes, but since I wasn't looking at him, I doubted he noticed.

"I thought you were tough," I commented.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked.

"You're the one that brought it up," I commented. And then he rolled us over. I yelped.

"Tough enough?" he asked as he pinned me. I struggled against him, but not really seriously.

"I guess," I said after I glanced around as a fake attempt to assess the situation. And then I just leaned up and kissed him. Well, I doubt anyone would really call it a kiss, I did little more than brush my lips over his.

"You guess?" he asked, he returned the kiss in exactly the same way.

"I guess," I said. But I didn't let him know whether or not I was guessing that I was guessing, or just affirming my entire situation. And before he could really respond I just kissed him again, but it was more of a real kiss.

"Daphne," he said quietly, as I let my lips slide away from his.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Why did you just kiss me?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to," I laughed. He just smiled a little bit.

"Why," he asked.

"Because I'm finally not tired and you're so warm and I don't really want to get out of bed," I said with a shrug. I figured that was a succinct enough summary of my intentions.

"So all I had to do to get into bed with you ensure you had a good night's sleep?" he asked.

"Technically you got into bed with me before that," I said.

"I suppose you're right," he said, and he leaned down to kiss me. His hands slid under my shirt and I didn't protest. "What does the night of sleep get me, then?" his voice was soft.

"I don't know," I said quietly, my voice little more than a whisper. And then I gave him a little, coquettish shrug and locked my eyes onto his. "Only one way to find out."

And so I found myself starting medical school with a lover and a boyfriend. Interestingly enough, they were the same person.

Things hadn't changed right away. Quite the opposite, really. Our routine stayed pretty much normal. But he started coming home with me on weekends. We never went to his place. He claimed it was a terrible mess not worthy of showing anyone. He never really struck me as the messy type, but I didn't argue too much. He talked of getting a newer apartment. I wasn't sure if he was implying for us or for himself, so I just let him talk.

School was odd. I started to feel like I knew more and more as I went into my classes. It was strange. Half the time I felt like I knew what the professors were going to say before it came out of their mouths.

By the time school started back up in the fall, Potter had pretty much moved in. There were still some nights when he didn't come to my apartment, but they were growing fewer and fewer. And I appreciated it. I still had nightmares, but never when I was in his arms. I dreaded the nights when he slept in his own bed. Still, part of me thought I should probably start charging him rent. But part of me suspected he'd just start paying the entire rent if I brought it up. So I didn't.

The boys in our little café group didn't seem to notice anything new. They still flirted with me. Harry joked about it fairly constantly as we left. I wasn't sure if it bothered him or not, but I certainly didn't do anything to deter their intentions.

From that point on, though, everything moved pretty fast. Somehow, looking for a new apartment for him morphed into looking for a new apartment for us. My father expressed some concerns, especially as I was still in school and not really able to support myself. But after going to dinner with Harry and myself that started to fade. I don't know what it was about Harry, but my dad seemed to trust him shortly after meeting him.

The dinner I insisted on going to with Astoria and Theodore; however, was a completely different experience.

Astoria had joked countless times about meeting the only boy-toy that could hold my interest for more than a few minutes. So eventually, I'd caved. And we'd wound up at a fancy London restaurant waiting for Astoria and Theodore.

"I'm still not sure this is a great idea," I said cautiously as we waited. I was drinking wine like it was going out of style. So much for the whole 'Daphne doesn't drink' phase. Potter wasn't good for my alcohol consumption.

"It was your idea," Harry laughed. "You can't hate your sister's boyfriend that much."

"Oh I do," I said.

"You never told me why," he asked. I suppose I hadn't. But the reasoning for that was simple enough.

"I don't really have a reason," I said. "I just hate him."

"Your sister too good for him?" Harry teased. I shrugged.

"Doubt it," I said. I had mixed feelings toward my sister on most days. If we weren't related I highly doubt we'd be friends.

"So why'd you want to have this dinner, then?" He asked. He seemed nervous as well, but he was doing his best to not bring that up. At least for now.

"So Astoria would stop talking about my mystery boyfriend," I scoffed.

"Does that mean I'm mysterious?" he asked.

"I guess," I scoffed.

"And if they hate me?" Harry asked.

"Fuck them?" I said.

"Well if your sister is half as pretty as you, maybe. But I doubt I'd go for Theodore," Harry commented idly.

"Gross," I said.

"There they are," Harry said, gazing across the table to the entrance of the restaurant. I looked up and spotted them quickly.

"How could you tell?" I laughed. He looked a little surprised by my question and it took him a moment to respond.

"Your sister looks enough like you," he said with a little bit of a shrug. It felt like an excuse, but he was right, Astoria and I looked alike.

"I guess," I said. And Astoria saw me. She smiled and waved and started walking toward us. But both her and Theodore stopped after just a few seconds and stared at Harry. I could have sworn Theodore swallowed hard. Harry just smiled at them. He stood when they eventually reached the table. I didn't.

"Harry Potter," he said, offering his hand to Astoria first, then Theodore. They both took it cautiously and introduced themselves. They each seemed to be walking on eggshells. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Theodore said. Astoria just looked at Harry for a few moments and then sat down.

"So how did you two meet," she said stiffly, looking at Harry.

"We frequent the same café," Harry answered jovially. Theodore just stared at him, leaning away a little bit in his chair and looking rather tense.

"The one where you work?" Astoria asked, looking toward me. She also looked a little more tense than I felt appropriate.

"Yes," I responded. "I spend a lot of time studying there when I'm not working."

"Ew," Astoria laughed. "Why would you want to study where you work?"

"I like the atmosphere," I said.

"Creep," Astoria commented. I just rolled my eyes as Harry ordered another bottle of wine for the table. Theodore just glared at Harry and I couldn't help but wonder just how much of a pissing contest this would turn into.

"How's the wedding planning going?" I asked. It took just about all of my freewill to not gag on the words. Thankfully Astoria didn't insist I look at her ring some more. I noticed Harry gaze between the two of them, almost as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard.

"Wonderfully," she sighed happily as she spoke. "We've got almost everything picked out. We should be mailing the invitations soon."

"So you've decided on a venue?" I asked.

"Not yet, but we're narrowing it down," she smiled.

"Well I look forward to it," I sighed. At the very least I hadn't been dragged dress shopping yet. But I was sure that would take up one of my weekends. I wasn't looking forward to it. I also wasn't looking forward to whatever type of dress she'd want to throw me in.

"I think we're going to go with a classic motif on the whole thing," she smiled.

"Please tell me I won't have to wear a corset," I frowned.

"I'd be lying," Astoria teased. And the meal continued. I let Astoria ramble on about her wedding a bit more. The boys didn't really talk. I tried to initiate them into some sort of sports conversation, but it failed pretty miserably when they both showed no interest in Liverpool.

Mostly they just glared at each other a little as Astoria and I talked. Well I should say as Astoria talked and I nodded a little bit at her words. I commented where appropriate, but letting her talk was the easiest way out of it.

Eventually the food came. We ate. Harry paid. Theodore seemed annoyed by that but didn't comment. And then we all left. Theodore and Astoria walked the opposite way down the street from us. I wondered where they were staying in London, as I knew they didn't spend much time in the city.

But when Harry and I walked away I didn't bother thinking about it more.

"I don't think they liked me," Harry said.

"Astoria is always like that," I laughed. "She likes talking about herself."

"Well Theodore just stared at me the entire time like I was going to jump across the table and punch him," Harry laughed.

"You should have," I said.

"Why?" he asked, taking my hand as we wandered down the street.

"Because it would have been hilarious?" I asked.

"I'm not sure that's a reason for getting into a brawl," he laughed.

"Suit yourself," I said and we just continued our walk home.

By the time December rolled around we'd moved in together. We split the rent on a two bedroom apartment not far from where I'd last lived. It was nearly triple my rent, but also about triple the size. I insisted on paying half of the rent, which was pretty much every last pence I made.

He'd argued with me about that. But I insisted. It wasn't until February that he managed to change my mind.

Shortly after we went to our weekly game as normal. I was far more nervous than he was. He told me there was no chance they'd notice. Boys didn't pick up on those types of details. Especially, when they were new. They'd have to be looking for it.

The group bantered a bit before the game, as was usual. Nothing special came up. Apparently Matthew had a date the last week that hadn't gone so well. I didn't feel that bad for him. I hated when they talked about girls, anyway.

When they finally got around to me, the only thing they seemed interested in was that I had, once again, not baked the batch of cookies I'd promised. But with school it was getting harder and harder to find time to bake. I almost told them that Harry had enough free time to make them some damn cookies, but we hadn't really bothered to tell them that we lived together.

Like I said, personal lives weren't something we really discussed.

And after that we continued wandering through some mysterious dark forest. It was a little silly. Harry scoffed a bit at Ian's version of the centaurs. He kept asking the leader about Mars. And he kept trying to get them to play with poker with Tarot cards. Ian wasn't particularly amused by his antics, but I thought it fairly entertaining.

Harry and I left together after we'd finished. The boys stared after us a bit. I think that deep down they knew two of their members may not be around for much longer. We were enjoying the time we spent together too much. And I was starting to have less and less time to just fool around.

But we both still enjoyed the weekend adventures. We were just enjoying other things a bit more.

And he'd been right, not one of the boys had noticed or commented on the ring on my left hand.

Mallorca in June was a surprisingly good idea. Even if Potter had come up with it. He figured I'd like the island. He'd been right, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't anticipating the walks through Palma and trudging after me through Roman ruins.

Apparently he'd been operating on the assumption that I'd enjoy spending the majority of my time lying around on the beach in a bikini. And while I'm sure that he'd have loved to watch me in a bikini all day, I found some slightly more interesting things to do.

But he didn't comment as I lectured him on the ruins. In fact, really, he seemed to enjoy the situation. So much so that he kept talking of extending our vacation and heading to Rome and then Athens.

And really that's not to say that I didn't enjoy spending a few hours a day laying on the beach and reading a book. I'd brought a few with me. Unfortunately, he'd made me agree to no medical tomes or things for school. So instead I just had a random assortment of relatively new fiction.

I told him that two weeks in Palma was more than enough and not to do anything silly. But he'd just smiled and nodded and asked me if I preferred Gucci or Prada. I slapped him. And told him Versace.

But I'd been teasing. Still, it hadn't taken me long to learn that teasing with Potter was a little strange, and teasing could often turn into something. I mean, hell, I'd joked I wanted to try a fountain pen and a few days later a shiny thin Waterman sat next to a packet of ink cartridges, a converter, and a bottle of ink on our kitchen counter.

Naturally I'd made an absurd mess.

But it was little things like that. On one hand, they amused me, but on the other, it was still a little surprising and irritating when he just did stuff like that. But after looking at his bank statement, I wasn't sure why I was bothering getting a medical degree.

Except for the fact that I wanted to.

Of course, after a solid four days of dealing with a near-hysterical Astoria in March made me fearful for June. But I was always more mellow than her.

Of course, when Harry mentioned Mallorca I'd wanted to do the entire thing on the island, but he'd vetoed that idea. I don't think it was so much that he didn't want to just do it on the island, but he didn't think it was fair to my father and some of our friends and he talked me out of it.

He rarely mentioned his own friends. And at the ceremony only a few people showed up on his side. It was a strange looking group. Far, far too many gingers, for the most part. But they all seemed nice. They didn't stick around and talk much, although Ian flirted pretty hard with a red-head who was probably a few years younger than me. She hadn't seemed interested.

A strange little blond girl was very nice to me. Although I wasn't sure whether or not she was all there. The only other two that really talked to me were a brunette and another ginger. Hermione, I learned her name was, was kind, but rubbed me the wrong way. Ron, I just had a strange sensation to completely ignore.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked from behind me. I was perched in a chair on our balcony in Palma, sipping some Spanish wine.

"Immensely," I smiled back at him. He placed an ice bucket with a new bottle of wine in it on the table and sat in the chair opposite of me. He just wore a pair of pajama pants and looked a little silly, but I wasn't about to comment. "You?"

Of course, I was just wearing a short green nightie and wasn't sitting in a very ladylike position as I perched in the chair. But I doubt there were any voyeurs about, and I didn't really care. I was far too content to worry.

It had been a very long time since I felt this happy. There were some moments in school, in my later years, where I could sort of recall being happy, but when I tried to focus on those memories, I could never quite recall just why.

"The Albarino is fantastic and the company is wonderful," he smiled and refilled the wine glasses. "So I'm feeling pretty content."

"Just content?" I teased. I shifted a little bit, stretching my arms above my head for a few moments before lowering them slowly and reaching for my wine. I let one of the straps slide down my arm a bit and just sipped the alcohol.

"For now," he smiled a little bit at me, his eyes lingering on the displaced part of my outfit.

"Well is there anything I could do to assist you?" I asked. I looked away from him for a moment and then gazed up at him through my eyelashes, attempting a faux-submissive look. He just smiled at me.

"I could probably think of something," he said with a cautious sip of his wine.

"Oh?" I asked, placing mine back down on the table.

"Come here," he smiled. I nodded dutifully and stood before walking over and plopping down into his lap. He immediately put his arms around me.

"Better?" I asked.

"Oh yes," he smiled.

"So what are your incredibly exceptional plans for tomorrow?" I asked.

"I've no idea," he smiled. "I hadn't thought much past breakfast."

"Couple eggs, some toast and some bacon?" I teased. He was pretty predictable with his breakfast choices.

"May spice it up and go with some granola," he responded.

"Seriously?" I laughed.

"No," he responded.

"I think that it may be a good beach day," I said.

"Okay," he smiled. He'd agreed to pretty much everything I'd wanted to do for the last few days. I'm sure he hadn't expected the walking and the exploring and all that, but he was having as good of a time as I was.

"I haven't worn the blue bikini yet, have I?" I asked. He was surprisingly good at remembering which outfits I wore. Well, at least which outfits that didn't cover much.

"Nope, just green and white," he said. "But I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow."

"In the morning," I sighed. I'd read it in the paper. "I don't plan on being out of bed until the afternoon."

"Anything special for breakfast or lunch?" he asked. He always had diner planned, pretty much regardless of my opinion on the matter. But so far I hadn't minded. Usually we went someplace rather formal. He liked to take me out. I liked to go out. So it all worked out.

Although I was going to convince him to have a night in the hotel room here in the next couple of days. But so far the only parts of the days he really wanted any control over were the evening meal. So I let him have that control.

"Fruit," I smiled. I typically just picked at a room service assortment for both meals. We ate much more in the evenings, and I liked to have an appetite.

"And you say I'm predictable," he teased me. He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth.

"Uh-huh," I sighed. "But I never argued I wasn't."

"Touché," he said. And I just leaned against him and closed my eyes for a moment. I spent the time fantasizing about the next weeks. All the things we'd do. And it was a wonderful assortment of images. I couldn't wait for them to become a reality. After a few quiet moments I just sighed contentedly in his lap.

"Well, Potter," he sighed, his hands sliding gently up my back and briefly into my hair. "Would you like to turn in for the evening?"

"Uh-huh," I sighed and he just lifted me up and carried me back into our hotel room.

Even years later I still thought about those days and smiled. It took me a very long time to realize just how lucky I'd been that Harry hadn't simply wandered away into the darkness on that first night when I'd blown him off.

But he'd always been more stubborn than that. I'd learned that very quickly that if he wanted something, he'd eventually get it. I actually kind of admired it.

I didn't admire his general lack of interest in working. But I'd see him writing things in journals. He'd even let me read them. Often, it was just detailed logs of our time together, or exposes on areas where we'd vacation to. We'd vacationed a lot during the first few years. It was much easier when I had breaks from school. After that I'd stack some time here or there for a few trips.

I suppose he did do some 'consulting' work for people he knew on occasion. I wasn't sure just what that entailed, and usually didn't press. I didn't think he'd keep it from me if I asked, but I knew most people who needed consulting preferred if it stayed a private matter.

And he'd even written a couple of books. They hadn't been huge successes, but they did well enough. He didn't do much publically with them. In his mind they were just fanciful tales of fantastic events. Something about them rung true to me, but I was one of the few people who didn't seem to think they were too far-fetched.

Now, though, that it was easier for me to take a couple of weeks off whenever we wanted I appreciated the fact that he could have a vacation pretty much whenever. But it seemed rare that we'd really want to go anywhere on those occasions.

He managed all the finances. I was a bit skeptical at first. Especially when I was the one putting in massive amounts of hours and collecting paychecks. But he showed me his statements, and things he accumulated interest on, and even his portfolio, which was filled with all sorts of things I didn't understand.

But at the very least he had a substantial enough income. And it wasn't like we didn't have joint-access to the accounts, so I didn't mind that he did all the paperwork. It wasn't like I didn't do enough of that at work anyway.

I'd only lasted a few years in the hospital itself. After that I'd switched toward more of a research role. I was heading up a team working on non-radiation treatments for cancer. At this point we weren't having much success. But I had more standard hours and it was considerably easier to do all of the family stuff.

I liked my work though. It gave me something to do and I felt better after a day of trying to figure out how to help people than after doing just about anything else. Harry was very encouraging too. He'd even learned some medical stuff. I don't really know how or when but it must have simply come from having me around. Still, he was more than willing to listen to me ramble or rant on about why something was or wasn't working. And eventually, he wound up turning into a pretty good resource for bouncing ideas off of. Even if all that really did was force me to think about and discuss my own ideas. It helped.

He'd been a little annoyed with me when I'd woken up early that Saturday. But I had some things I wanted to check up on at the lab, and then I wanted to go get some exercise. And it wasn't like we ever slept in on weekends anymore, anyway. But I think he'd probably wanted to make me breakfast or something.

Even now he did stuff like that. I appreciated it. We took turns with dinner most of the time that we ate at home. Tonight was his turn, but I suspected we'd try to go out. We liked to go out on Saturday. It just wasn't always feasible.

I left the studio, stretching my arms above my head as I walked. The little freestyle sessions always helped my mornings. I really needed to get back into a sort of routine with them. But every time I tried it seemed like some other weekend engagement came about.

I stopped in the café. Derek was behind the counter. He made me a couple of coffees and I grabbed a small bottle of apple juice and tucked it into my purse. We exchanged pleasantries while he made the coffee. He asked me all the standard questions. Harry and I still stopped by the café probably once a week or so, but Derek had gone on to open a couple more in the city, and he wasn't always working when we stopped in.

It was nice to catch up. He was doing well for himself. Ian wasn't doing so well for himself. Derek wasn't as big of a fan as his new friends as he had been his old. I wished him my best, but couldn't really think of much more to say.

I checked my phone to see if I had any new messages before I picked up the coffees and thanked Derek. He gave me a little bit of a smile, told me we should get together for lunch, and waved me on my way.

I wandered back outside and kept walking toward our home. We still lived in the same building we'd moved to all those years ago, but we'd moved into a larger unit. The extra rooms were life savers.

It only took me a few minutes to walk near the building. We had a rather nice park across the street and since it was a nice morning I decided to jaunt through it. I wasn't overly surprised when I stumbled upon them.

Harry was sitting on a bench, his arms out to his side, resting on the back. He was leaning backward and looked completely relaxed. But his attention was focused squarely on her. She was feeding the birds with crumbled up pieces of bread, despite the nearby sign suggesting to not do that.

I just smiled at the scene, standing a few feet away from him and just watching the scene. He didn't notice me and I just watched for a couple of minutes, sipping my coffee as I did. But eventually, I figured it was rude to let his coffee cool off too much so I snuck up behind the back of the bench and then slid onto it, next to him. I handed him the plastic cup that didn't have lipstick smears around the lid.

"Why hello" he said, taking it. "But I'm not sure my wife would like me accepting gifts from strangers."

"As long as you don't sleep with them she won't care," I deadpanned. He slid his left arm off the bench and around my shoulder. I leaned against him a little bit.

"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed. "What if they're really pretty?"

"Still no," I laughed with him.

"Thanks for the coffee," he smiled.

"Anytime, babe," I said.

"How was dancing?" he asked. Both of our eyes settled on her. I guess we couldn't help but be protective.

"Fine," I said quietly. "Didn't really do much other than flit around."

"Isn't that normal?"

"More or less," I sighed.

"Well I'm sure you looked awesome doing it," he laughed. I shook my head.

"I doubt it," I smiled though.

"Oh but you looked awesome when you had those small parts!" he laughed. I smiled a little bit.

"Well I appreciate that. But it was years ago," I laughed.

"We're not that old, Daphne," he smirked. I looked at him and shrugged. We really weren't. In fact, he still pretty much looked like he had outside that café all those years ago. I thought I did, too, but that could have simply been vanity.

"We just age well," I smiled.

"Honey, don't pick up the birdie." It took me a moment to realize he wasn't talking about me.

"But Daddy," she frowned and turned to look at us. She didn't seem overly surprised by my sudden appearance, but I suppose in her mind mommy just showing up wasn't anything to take note of. "It ate all the bread. Do you have more?"

"No, Claire," he said. "And we shouldn't feed them anyway. It will make them dependent."

"What's that?" our daughter asked. She looked back at him. She looked a lot like me, except she wasn't quite as pale. She had the same hair, and her facial structure was similar to mine. She'd lucked into a dimple though. Something I couldn't claim. She had his eyes, though. The large green orbs were certainly better than anything I could have given her.

"It means they won't be able to care for themselves," I said.

"Oh," Claire frowned. "Is that bad?"

"It could be," I smiled. And I reached into my purse and pulled out the small apple juice. "I got you this."

"Oh!" she smiled brilliantly and ran to the bench we were sitting at. I opened the juice for her and handed it to her as she approached. She got far more on her face than was probably appropriate as she started to drink, and I found myself cleaning her off a moment later.

After that she wedged herself between us on the bench. I just sighed and stared out around the park. It was starting to become a bit busier. I wasn't sure what Harry had told her we'd be doing all day, but I didn't have work to get to, so I wasn't particularly worried about that.

"I don't want to go shopping," Claire said with a frown a few moments later. I looked at Harry, a little surprised at that.

"Don't you want new clothes for school?" he smiled.

"I don't want to go to school," she frowned. "I want to stay home with you."

"But school will be fun," Harry said. "You'll make all sorts of friends."

"What if they don't like me?"

"They'll love you," he assured her. She pouted for a few moments, as if thinking about that statement. I tilted my head down to the side and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's hand, which now rested on my shoulder.

"Okay," Claire said quietly. "But can we get ice cream after?"

"Ask your mother," Harry said. I frowned and glanced at my watch. It was still early in the day, but shopping was always hard to predict.

"As long as it's not too close to dinner," I sighed. It probably wouldn't matter, anyway. We spoiled her a little too much. But after that we all stood. I took Claire's hand and Harry walked off in front of us to find a cab and commence with the rest of our day.

And more time passed. Claire grew every day. She loved school, naturally. I'm not sure how she couldn't. She was always good at it too. But we both knew that. She was a smart girl. We had her reading before she'd even entered primary school. And she made so many friends so quickly that we both had a hard time keeping track of all of them.

I am also not ashamed to say that I started taking more days off during the week once she was out of the house. It was always nice to be able to stay home with Harry. It made the weeks worlds better.

We fought a little bit at first. I think mostly because he wanted another kid and I didn't really want to go there. Claire had been hard enough. Of course, with her, I'd been finishing medical school and trying to work in a hospital. It hadn't worked well to start. And now there was much less pressure on me in that area.

I'd probably relent at some point. A boy may have been fun. Not that I could control the outcome. But it didn't help his cause that I felt no impending rush to do so. When I looked in the mirror I'd have sworn I still looked twenty-five. Even our friends commented on how youthful we managed to look. I felt it, too. And I don't think it was just from the dancing.

We'd finally moved out of the apartments a few years after Claire started school. We'd moved to a townhouse just the other side of our favorite park. It was a three story building that cost us more in taxes than our rent could have ever dreamed of being. But it was something that he'd inherited, apparently. I didn't like the fact that the house number was thirteen, but I couldn't really control that.

And there were some spooky things about it. A few of the rooms looked more suited for an early-Victorian brothel than a London town house. And I'm pretty sure some of the plumbing and furnishings probably dated from the late seventeen hundreds. Harry thought I was being silly, but I would have sworn some of the paintings on the third floor moved.

This also fails to mention that one of the walls had some sort of unidentifiable scorch marks on it. And that the building had a gloomy feature that didn't quite suit it. And sometimes I'd have sworn I forgot just where it was. But we fixed all of that.

It took us about a year of working on it to touch up the outside, repaint the interior, put in all new windows and carpeting, modernize all of the appliances and plumbing, bring in all new furniture, and make most of the rooms inhabitable for normal people. He kept one of the third floor bedrooms as an office and didn't change much about it. He claimed he liked it the way it was. I thought he was a little silly.

I was a little surprised that the house had fallen into such disarray, but we'd taken care of that. Of course, with the amount of money we spent to refurbish it, we could have probably bought a house in London and another home in Tuscany.

I liked it, though. It certainly had a home feel.

I set the timer on the oven and walked out from the kitchen and back into the living room. He was relaxing in a chair, the television displaying a rerun of some crime show I never really got interested in.

But all I noticed was that he hadn't started on any of the decorations like he said he would.

"Really Harry?" I sighed. I picked up the string and started sliding letters onto it, hoping I could make a passable banner before the baked goods finished.

"Sorry," he frowned. "What do you want me to do?"

"Balloons now. I'll deal with the banner," I tried to sound annoyed. But I'd really expected it. He'd been a bit down all week, and even more so today. I had no idea what was wrong with him. When I asked he just told me he was fine. I'd been too busy to really press.

"Okay," he sighed. He grabbed the bag of balloons and started blowing one up. I went back to the banner. It didn't take me long to string 'happy' together. I looked around and grabbed the two ones sitting nearby and added them. Before I knew it the banner was complete.

I wandered over toward the door between the kitchen and the living room. So Claire would see it when she wandered down to breakfast in the morning. I hopped on a chair to help me hang it. It didn't go well. I was too short.

But a few moments later, Harry was behind me. He chuckled quietly and pulled me down from the chair, before hanging the banner himself with a smile. I just shook my head and tossed him up a couple balloons he'd blown up with the instructions to tie them to the banner.

"Now what?" he sighed.

"Go get her presents and box of gift wrap," I said. He nodded a bit, they were in a second floor closet. He walked up the stairs to get them and I went back to work on the balloons. I'd hang a few more in the kitchen just to make a more festive atmosphere.

Harry returned a few moments later carrying the clear plastic bin I kept all of the wrapping paper in, whether it was for Christmas or Birthdays. And I immediately started on wrapping Claire's gifts. I probably shouldn't have put it off to the last minute like this. But oh well, there wasn't a whole lot I could do about that now.

Harry just sat in his chair and looked at me as I wrapped. Usually he'd offer to help, and I'd let him, despite the fact that I could wrap about four gifts in the time it took him to do one. And even make them look better. But hey, it was one of those situations where it was the thought that mattered far more than the outcome. When we were done I brought them into the kitchen and placed them on the table just in time to hear the timer go off on the oven.

I moved over to it and took the brownies out. We'd bought a decorated cake, too, but I always liked to make something for special occasions. Claire preferred very basic chocolate brownies with powdered sugar on top. So that's what I made.

I walked back into the living room. Harry had migrated to the couch so I sat down on it as well. I let out a deep sigh as I rested against him.

"I don't remember birthdays being this much work," I sighed. He just chuckled a bit under his breath, and slid an arm around my waist. I glanced up at the banner I'd just made and frowned. I'd forgotten the 'th' and it just read 'Happy 11 Birthday'. I'm sure Claire wouldn't comment, but it bothered me.

"Me either," he sighed. It took him longer to respond to me than normal. It was almost like he heard me, but then just not registered that he should say something. I frowned a little bit.

"What's wrong, love?" I asked as sweetly as I could. His arm slid around my waist but he didn't answer. I'd have argued with him had he tried to move away from me or anything. But instead he was silent, so I was silent too.

"They told me you were dead," he said quietly after some time.

"What?" I laughed. "Is that some sort of beginning for a novel or something?"

"No," he sighed.

"Well it would be better than the one where the main character complains that the whole last year was boring as a cheap way of setting the mood," I said. He just frowned. I could sense he didn't like the teasing, and I was torn. Part of me thought that I should just lead him upstairs and comfort him. He'd never kept something from me. He'd tell me. I just had to be patient. But part of me thought he was acting too strange. And I decided to press.

"Please just tell me what's wrong," I said. Again, he was silent. And then he stood.

"Give me one minute, okay?" he said. I just nodded and he walked upstairs. He came back moments later with a black, leather-bound journal. He handed it to me. I looked at him for a moment and then opened it. The title page just had my name written on it in my mother's flowing handwriting.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Your father gave it to me on the morning of our wedding," he said. "He told me to give it to you when I felt the time was right."

"Have you read it?" I asked. Part of me was afraid to flip it to the next page. But I did anyway. It was a hand written table of contents with things like 'Year one' 'Year two' and all the way through 'Year six'. And then 'Memories.' Each of the chapter headings was in a blue-black ink, a favorite color of mine. And under each was a summary of the chapter, but this was in a silvery-gray ink that was hard to read on the paper. And this handwriting wasn't my mother's. No, these entries were in my handwriting. It had to have been a forgery. I never wrote things down. I just didn't.

"It isn't for me to read," he said. I frowned a little bit.

"Why is the time right? And who wrote this?" I asked. He just shrugged and shook his head.

"I have no idea, Daphne. I think you did. But, can you promise me something?"

"Of course," I said. That seemed like a silly thing to ask me. I'd already promised him everything, what more could some reassurance of that be worth?

"I'm going to tell you a story," he said slowly. I closed the journal and looked at him. "Please just listen until I'm done. Then I'll try to help."

"Okay," I said, tilting my head to look at him. At this point I was seriously confused.

"Everything is going to change tomorrow," he said. "The world that you know. Everything."

"What?" I laughed. "You're not like, part of a terrorist cell or something, are you?" I was teasing, but my heart fell. Just what could he be talking about? What had he kept from me?

"They told me you were dead," he said. "And so I did what I had to do. I did what needed to be done. It was violent and it was surprisingly quick. When it was over, I left. I had no more place in that world."

"What are you talking about?" I interrupted him. He just shook his head at me and I frowned. "Sorry."

"I left. I abandoned it all. They'd used me and I'd let them. I came back to England only briefly, years later. And only because I'd read two of my friends were getting married. I went to see them. But I couldn't. I got close. We'd agreed to meet for dinner, but I just couldn't go through with it."

"Please just tell me what you're talking about," I said, this time waiting until he stopped to take a breath. He just nodded at me.

"So instead I walked away from them, again. Away from the diner. And I'd just walked through the streets. I have no idea what brought me to that café. But I walked in to get a coffee. And a sandwich. I was hungry. I'd skipped dinner, you know. I wasn't paying attention. And then there you were. Behind the counter with coffee. But they'd told me you were dead."

"Harry," I frowned. He was always vague about what he did before he met me. And this wasn't really helping with that now.

"But you weren't dead. You were there, smiling at me despite the coffee. Helping out despite being off the clock. And everything came back," he sighed. But I just let him talk. He told me something. A story, a history, a lie, or a fantasy. I didn't know what to think. It all had to be fiction. An elaborate story he was working on.

But he was right. Everything did change when the morning post arrived.

Author's Note 2: As always, thanks for reading, I do appreciate it. Check out my new fic, Harry Potter and the Toadstool Cup. It's just comedic fun that doesn't take long to get through!


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